


Conversations in the Dark

by ToriCeratops



Series: Conversationally Speaking [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: When it was all said and done, their friendship came far easier than anyone would have expected - including Ed and Roy.Everything else after that, really, shouldn't have surprised them.---A tale of falling in love over time and distance where out of sight never means out of mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I read a story I loved recently where halfway through the fic the relationship just kind of - BAM - was there fully formed and we were expected to go with it but I wanted more build up. I still love that story (why I'm not naming it) but here is my attempt at a more gradual transition of this trope. Hope I've done these guys justice.
> 
>  
> 
> Also of note: Though this begins two days after the promised day, Ed is 19 before we get more seriously into things.

_I’ll use you as a focal point_

_So I don’t lose sight of what I want_

* * *

 

 

> **6th of April, 1915**

 

Time is hard to follow when your entire world is nothing but darkness.

No light, no shapes, no nothing.

The best Roy can get is the warmth of the morning sun on his face.  He turns into it, the first morning, and lets it soak into his skin, chasing out the chill of the hospital air.

On the second day, it rains.

At first, he tries to get Hawkeye to help him mark the time the nurses come through but they’re never punctual - sometimes late, sometimes early, and infrequent overnight.

He gets updates, makes what plans he can with his team and even helps write up (orally, of course) a report to share with the central news station on the public details on what happened.  They have to stay far ahead of any attempts to bury the past.

Now, all there is, is rain - a white noise encompassing the otherwise empty world he’s currently forced to exist in.

Luckily it's not so loud as to mask the sound of a nurse coming in.  A different one, from the last, judging by the heaviness of their footsteps.  They’re trying to be quiet, but Roy hears every move they make.

“Hey.” Roy holds his hand up to try and wave them over.

“Hey, Colonel.” It's a higher pitched, but familiar, male voice.  “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“I would kill to stretch my legs a little.” He admits with a self-deprecating smile.  

“Oh, uh…”  He hums a little and Roy can hear him still moving, probably at Hawkeye’s side, who is still fast asleep.  Then his voice gets closer. “I don’t have any strict bed rest orders for you so it wouldn't be a problem if you want to move around for a while.  I won’t stop you.”

Roy lays there, not moving.  The nurse may not stop him, no.  But that doesn’t mean other things won’t.

The silence stretches on a bit then, “Oh, shit.  Sorry Colonel. You probably don’t recognize me by my voice.  I’m nurse Aycock, your regular night nurse from the last time you were here.  I’m not used to the new condition.”

He waves the young man off.  Short, curly black hair - he thinks he remembers how he looks, though he definitely remembers the name.  “Its fine, Matt. Do you have a few minutes to lead a helpless blind bird around?”

“If you’re okay waiting outside my last checkup.  Yeah.”

Roy stands on his own but doesn’t chance much more than that despite desperately wanting to move on his own.  Matt gently grabs one of his heavily bandaged hands and sets it on his shoulder. “I’ll go slow at first, then let you set the pace.”

They don’t talk as they move into the hall.  Roy is acutely aware of the silence that stretches in every direction this time of night.  “You’re good at this.” He says eventually.

“I may have forgotten you were blind for a hot second, but not how to care for it.” The nurse assures him.  They come to a stop and Matt places Roy’s hand on a door frame. “I'll let you know I’m here before I touch you again, okay Colonel?”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised at how readily and easily the young nurse handles this - like he’s done it a dozen times before and knows how jumpy soldiers can be, especially injured after battle.

The door he went through is still open judging by the clarity of sounds coming through.

“Has he woken up at all since I was here last?”

“Nah.  Going on ten hours this time.”  That’s Ed’s voice, softer than Roy’s ever heard it  “Was that Mustang you were talking to out there?” Roy assumes Matt nods.  “Well tell him to get his blind ass in here.”

Roy rolls his eyes, but grips the door frame and moves forward until he can reach out to the opposite side with his other hand.  “You rang?”

“Grabbing your elbow,”  Matt states clearly before doing exactly that and helping Roy the rest of the way into the room.  “If you’ll be okay a minute I need to grab some fresh bandages for the Major.” Roy nods and is left standing there, one hand on the cool metal rail of the foot of a bed, the scritch-scratch of pen on paper the only sound above Al’s labored breathing.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?”  He asks Ed.

“Nah, that would imply I tried in the first place.”

“Oh?”  he hears Ed shuffle around a bit, assuming he’s hiding whatever he was working on, which just makes Roy grin at the futility of it all.  “Al hasn’t - damn it, stop just standing there and come sit down. You’re a patient right now, too.”

Knowing full well there is a good chance Ed isn’t even looking Roy still shoots him a sardonic look - well, in the general direction of his voice anyway.  

“90-degree turn left.  Two steps. 90-degree turn right. Three steps.”  Roy can hear his eye roll which means he had absolutely been looking.  It takes a frustrating amount of time but once he’s close enough, Ed helps guide him to a free spot on his bed - two warm flesh hands on his cold and bandaged ones.

Once he is sitting, Roy prompts: “Al hasn’t what?”

“Al hasn’t slept for five years.”  Ed picks up where he left off, sounding distant.  “That entire time, he watched over me whenever I slept.  As long as we were together, he watched.”

The guilt warring with relief in Ed’s voice is tangible.  “So is this a changing of the guards?”

“Kind of, I guess.  Maybe more of just making up lost time.”

“Would you rather I go?  I don’t want to wake him.”

“Wouldn’t have asked you to go through the trouble of sitting if I was worried about that.”  The nurse’s footsteps start slowly making their way back, echoing in the hall through the open door.  “He’s got a lot of making up to do and sleeps like a rock. A nurse dropped a tray when he was napping earlier and he slept right through it.”

Roy whistles, impressed, just as Matt returns.  “Wish I could sleep like that.”

“No kiddin’”

Roy focuses on the sounds of Ed shifting, of bandage tape moving against skin and a deep, guttural groan of pain he may have normally missed.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what we’ll do now?”  Ed asks, a clench in his voice that Roy knows is masking pain more than anything else.

“Is that the standard protocol?”  Ed’s laugh is followed by a hiss of pain and a quiet curse.  But he doesn’t say anything else.

Honestly, he hadn’t even thought to ask and wonders if anyone who has really knew who they were talking to.  “Fullmetal. You and Alphonse have been working for this, almost exclusively, for five years without knowing when or if you’d ever achieve it. I don’t expect you to have any idea what you’re doing next WEEK let alone with your life.”  Again, Ed doesn’t say anything and Roy finds himself wishing he could see his reaction. “I expect you’ll focus on his recovery for a while then get around to figuring out ‘next.’”

Matt seems to finish his work and quietly places his gear back on whatever cart or tray he brought.  Roy can hear every tiny bump and rustle.

“Just when I thought I had you all figured out.”  Ed’s words are soft with a hint of amusement laced through them.  

“I’ve got a lot more tricks up my sleeve.  Maybe I’ll let you see a few whenever you’re in central.”

Ed laughs again, but this time it fades to something besides pain.  Curiosity, maybe.

“Do you get that question a lot too?”

Roy shrugs.  “I don’t really notice if I do.  I’ve always known what is next, for the most part.”

“Even after I pay you the 520 cenz?”

The familiar attempt at intimidation in Ed’s words gives Roy an excuse to smile, if only for the briefest of moments.  “Especially after that.” But then he sighs, deflated. “Though it looks like you’ll get to hold onto that for at least a few more years.”

He expects a joke, a quip, a laugh or something about the futility of a blind Fuhrer.

But Ed pokes him in the chest.  “You are not earning interest.” Each word is punctuated by a jab.  

Roy is the one to laugh this time, though he tries to keep it muffled.

Matt gets his attention before his humor fades away.  “Sorry, Colonel. But I'm done and need to get back. Can’t leave you here.”

After Roy stands and waits for his guide he turns to face where he thinks Ed is sitting.  “I’m happy you’re both going to be okay.”

“Thanks.”  Ed’s quieter than before.  “Really. And thank you, for helping us, for everything.   I don’t think I ever told you that.”

The genuine shock that freezes Roy in place will have to be parsed out later.  He shakes his head and smiles. “Even for all the times I was a bastard?”

“Come to find out, especially those.  Well, most of them anyway.”

Immediately Roy can think of two he’ll never be forgiven for, though even this is far more than he deserves.

“Get some rest.”  He says instead of dwelling on it.  “You earned it.”

“You too, Colonel.”

* * *

  


 

 

> **7th of April, 1915**

 

Whatever fuel Al had been running on when he first got back from the gate has apparently completely run dry.  Ed’s beside himself unable to help for the first time ever. This couldn’t be fixed with some extra metal and alchemy - even if he still had it.  Luckily, he doesn’t have to watch in agony all day because Al sleeps through at least 80% of it. But even then it is an endless stream of doctors and nurses and military personnel.  

When night falls again, Ed revels in the silence.  There’s no one to bother him or poke at him or Al - for the most part anyway. Their night nurse, Matt, isn’t too bad.

“Major?”

Speak of the devil.  Ed nods at him.

“I brought a friend again.”  There’s a question wrapped in that declaration and Ed waves him in.  

He’s trying to learn to love the silence, but Mustang doesn’t count.

“Hey!”  He starts, genuinely happy for his company.  Maybe he’s just tired of strangers. “I didn’t expect to see you in here again.”

“I’m only at the other end of the hall.”  He points out, super helpful as always.

“Yeah I know, but…”  Matt finishes helping Roy find his spot to sit that Ed had made for him then sneaks out while Ed waves that thought away.  “Never mind. Saw you were crowded in there today.”

“Can’t stop working now.”  Roy shrugs.

“Bah.  Overrated.  You’ve got to be tired of it all anyway.”  Ed nudges him with his bare foot. “Talk about something else.”

Roy’s smile is a step in the right direction.  “Like what?”

He chews on that a bit, wondering what would be worth talking about in a barely lit room in the dead of night.  But then his stomach gurgles because the hospital cooks might actually be evil.

“Food!”

This earns him a raised eyebrow.  “Seriously?”

“Absolutely.”  

For a while, he looks like he’s mulling it over and the only sound is that of Al’s breathing.

“Have you had Aerugan?”

Ed shakes his head, then remembers.  “Nah. I’ve never branched out much. But I’m willing to try a few new things now that Al can try them with me.  What’s it like?”

“Usually pretty spicy but a lot of times paired with some sweet fruits giving it the perfect balance.”

“What’s your favorite?” Ed asks, thinking that it could be fun to sneak a bunch of new things onto Al’s list.

“Pineapple chutney,”  Roy answers immediately and if Ed thought the man was capable of being fond of something that’s how he’d probably sound.  “You get this - hit - when you smell it of strong spices and heat from the hot pepper…”

“How spicy?”  Ed tries not to sound intimidated but if Roy’s smirk is anything to go by he fails miserably.

“Not too bad once you bite into the pineapple.  But if you’re worried you could try some tandoori chicken.  It can BE spiced up but as is there’s no heat to it.”

Ed keeps asking more questions and surprisingly, Roy keeps answering them.  It helps that he’s a bit of a captive audience. Apparently, he’s tried at least a few dishes of ALL the immediately surrounding countries and a few further ones to boot.  It's a completely useless conversation but it is… peaceful. Ed finds he actually enjoys talking about nothing for once in his life.

Eventually, their topic shifts from things they like to things they don’t, or sometimes things they just don’t want to bother trying.

“Grumman got me to try stuffed sheep intestine once.”

Ed can’t stop the choking noise he makes, which gets a chuckle out of Roy  “How the hell he manage that?”

“Beat me at chess.  I should never have agreed.  He _always_ beats me at chess.”

Deciding his stomach has had enough of the topic of disgusting food, Ed decides its past time to change the subject.

“I don’t think I’ve ever played chess.”

“Really?”  Ed isn’t sure if Roy is making a show if it or actually seriously contemplating his reply before he adds - “I could teach you; if you’d like.”

It is a tempting offer, to be sure.  He and Al will need something to do over the next few long months of his recovery.  Though he’s fairly certain his little brother would learn to beat him far before Ed ever mastered it.  “I won’t have anyone to practice with. I guess I could teach Al but I’m not too terribly eager to give him something else to beat me at.”

“You’ll play me.”  Roy states as if that is the most obvious response in the world.

Ed rolls his eyes.  “You can’t see the board!”

Slowly a smirk creeps across Roy’s face that becomes what Ed would almost call a downright wicked grin.

He knows he’s supposed to be scared of that look, but all it does is make him eager to learn to beat him.

* * *

  
  


 

> **10th of April, 1915**

 

For the next three nights, once the halls fall quiet and almost the entire hospital sleeps, Matt guides Roy to Ed and Al’s room.  He gives them as long as it takes to make his rounds - which Roy suspects he stretches a tad - before coming to take Roy back.

As much as Roy enjoys the time, he despises needing someone to guide him, to lead him around.  He tried a few times - during the day - to walk entirely on his own but his steps were still too unsure and he doesn’t trust any of his other senses yet.

Which is one of the reasons his unexpected visitor that morning has put him so off-kilter.  

“You seem kind of out of it tonight.”  Ed’s perception surprises him, though he supposes he has been quieter than usual.

“Knight to E5.”  The soft tap of marble on wood lets him know Ed has moved Roy’s piece.  “Maybe.”

They had ‘borrowed’ a chess board from one of the doctor's lounges on a different floor - according to Ed - and once the younger man understood the pieces, the layout, and Roy’s verbal notations they had hit the ground running - so to speak.  Ed had made him promise not to hold back. As if he ever would.

“You don’t have to say why.  I guess I just thought - since you’re here every night... pawn captures knight.”  Five out of six nights since they’ve been here and it might as well have been every night - though Roy goes home in the morning so he isn’t likely to see him much more.

It doesn’t make what’s gnawing at him any easier to admit.  Though if anyone would understand, it is absolutely the young man in front of him.  

“I think - I think I want to ask you something.  But I’m not sure how - or even if I should after everything.”

“Wow, Colonel Mustang at a loss for words?”

Though Roy’s immediate reaction is to be cross, he realizes Ed’s words were not unkind and he deflates a little.  “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Yeah yeah.  So what is it?”

He thinks again about how Ed really is the only person who would understand, explicitly, and intimately, what pains him.  “Doctor Marcoh came to see me today.”

“Oh.”

“Full - Ed.  Please. Be honest.  After you knew the truth about the stones were there ever…”  The fire and passion with which he remembers Ed denouncing the cursed things ever existed in the first place flashes vividly through Roy’s memories and he stops.  “Damn it, I can’t.”

“Was I ever tempted?”  Though Ed’s words are dark and clouded with emotion, Roy can tell they aren’t directed at him.  “Only a few times, at my lowest, when I couldn’t fight anymore or Al was in grave danger. A thought, a voice, a whisper - they’re already dead.  But it was never more than a flash.”

Roy can almost feel the self-hatred radiating off of him and has to push through the surprise he’s actually admitting this.  “But you never held onto those thoughts.” He reaches out, carefully, thankful to find a solid shoulder beneath his grasp.

At Roy’s touch, Ed seems to exhale.  “Never. But you’re different. Al and I - our sacrifices were punishments for a deed we willingly chose to do.  Yours is - “ Ed’s voice goes dark again. “Your sight was stolen from you after you were shoved through that godforsaken gate against your will.”  Roy can hear him struggling not to explode, not to yell and just let go of all his anger. “If Marcoh thinks he can fix it. Do it.”

Though he’s not convinced, Roy recognized when it’s time to drop something.  Hell, he should never have brought it up in the first place. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he’d never be able to use it completely guilt-free, though he’s not put the idea completely away yet either.  Well, he wouldn’t be guilt-free using it himself anyway.

“If there’s any power left after he heals Havoc, we’ll see.”

Ed’s silent for a moment and Roy drops his hand, realizing he had lingered on Ed’s shoulder.  Quietly, and much to the shock of Roy, Ed begins laughing. The noise builds until Roy hears him clamp a hand over his own mouth and curse, mirth still obviously present.

When Al doesn't stir at the noise, Ed settles on chuckling quietly.  “Stubborn self-sacrificing bastard.”

Which simply won’t do.

“Rook to B2.  Check.” Roy says, voice flat.

Ed’s laugh becomes a cough.  “Hey! You distracted me on purpose.”

“I doubt I’ll need to do any purposeful distractions for a while.”  Roy assures him - glad to be off the subject.

“Oh yeah?  Knight to A4.  Check.” his smug sense of satisfaction returns full force in Ed’s voice and Roy can’t help but smile at the familiarity of it.

“I have no doubt you’ll become a master far quicker than most, but you’ll need someone good to keep practicing with if you want to beat me.  Queen to A2. Checkmate.”

“Damn it!” Roy can hear the grin in Ed’s voice, despite his defeat.  “Guess that means you’ll have to keep coming here once in a while after you're discharged.”

He thinks about it for only a brief moment before shrugging.  What the hell.

“I think I can manage that.”

* * *

  


 

 

 

> **12th of April, 1915**

 

Ed isn’t surprised that he doesn’t see Mustang the following evening.  To be one hundred percent honest, he half figured he would never see the bastard again.  He was probably about to have hundreds of people kissing his ass and at his beck and call.  There would be no time wasted on hospital visits.

On the second night after Roy is discharged, however, Ed keeps staring in shock at the shiny new star on the jacket draped behind the man sitting on the foot of his bed.

“So.  General, huh?”

“Technically Major General.”  Roy acknowledges with a nod and a bit of a smug grin.  Apparently, he’d TRIED to come back the evening before but they wouldn’t let him through.  But then he got a little more clout and they couldn’t say no.

“General Armstrong must be pissed she no longer outranks you.”

“She doesn’t have to put up with it for long.  She’ll get hers once she is released from this place, too.  They like to hand out the nice rewards for helping to save literally the entire country.”

Ed gives a curt nod.  “Damn right.” Then he has a thought and smiles.  “Glad I can hold onto my money for a little while longer.”

“Normally the fact that we haven’t named a leader yet would have me telling you not to lock it up so soon but it is looking like the best I’ll be able to pull is second in command for now.  That is, if what’s left of the military doesn’t implode.” He falls silent for a moment then, “Would you please just go already.”

“Huh?  Oh.” Ed had been so thoroughly distracted by the promotion he had forgotten all about their game.  “Knight to F3. You’re not going to expect me to actually salute you now or anything.”

“I don’t expect you to ever change, Fullmetal.  Rook F to D8.” He answers without hesitation and no small amount of amusement in his voice.

“Oh. Well, good.  Because it is absolutely not happening.”  Ed hopes beyond hope his words came across with more confidence than he feels.  Right now, Ed’s not sure of anything, especially what may or may not change. Hell, he still hasn’t technically resigned his position as a state alchemist though that’s probably a moot point now.

“I almost forgot!”  Ed starts, desperate to not focus on the muddled mess in his head.  “Al wanted to add something to his ‘to eat’ list but he doesn’t remember what it was, just what it looked like.  B4.”

“Bishop to E8.  Must have looked exceptional if it caught Al’s attention.”  

Their game is very definitely not going Ed’s way- not that it ever has yet, and he grumbles before responding.  “I’ll try to describe it exactly like he did.” Ed clears his throat and puts on his best Al voice, “It was a plate of strips of the moist, tender looking steak dripping in juices with bright red and orange chunks of steaming peppers and onions in some kind of sauce that was still sizzling on the plate. Ah ha! Rook F to C1!”

Roy thinks for a moment - whether about the food or his next move Ed has no clue.  “Sounds, perhaps, like Zaragozan cuisine. It's a massive country beyond Creta.”

“I know where it is.”  Ed snaps.

“There may be an establishment or two in the western region, A6.”

“Heh, maybe I’ll check it out sometime.”  Ed has been to West City but hasn’t spent much time there.  He’s never really thought about going west but now that he is….

“What, the food?”

“Zaragoza.”  Ed replies immediately, not realizing how much he means it until it’s already been said.  

And then all sorts of ideas start to float through his head, possibilities of places he could visit and explore with Al… or maybe...  No, he won’t entertain that idea.

Not yet.

* * *

 

  
  


 

> **2nd of July, 1915**

 

For two months Roy finds himself going back to the hospital over and over.  He doesn’t go every night, but he certainly goes far more often than he had originally intended or ever thought he would.  As Roy HAD expected, Ed is picking up the game very rapidly and while Roy doesn’t exactly have to stay on his toes, he at least needs to pay attention.

It helps that the conversation is good.

Though he goes during the day every once in a while to check on Al, for the most part, it is in the dead of night when it is otherwise silent in every hall and darkness covers the city.  

Not that Roy would notice.

“Didn’t think you would make it tonight since you’ll see us at the send off tomorrow.  Well, talk to us anyway.” He and Ed have long since moved their game into one of the more secluded waiting rooms.  Al’s on a much more regular sleep schedule now and it takes far less to wake him.

Roy shrugs.  “Wouldn’t be the same.”  They’ll be leaving tomorrow and the one point of calm in his fucking chaos of a life will be leaving with them.  He almost laughs aloud that it is Ed - of all people - who has given him respite while his world struggles to stay afloat.  

“No, it wouldn’t.”  The tap of the last piece being put on the board tells Roy he’s ready.

For a long time, they just play, the only sounds in the large waiting room their verbal notations and Ed moving the pieces of the board for both of them so he can keep up.  They fall into a comfortable rhythm with it to the point Roy is surprised to find they finish the game without either bringing anything else up.

Ed knocking his king over in defeat echoes through the cold waiting room.  “Damn it.” He mumbles. But it doesn’t sound like anger at his loss.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s - “  Ed sighs. “I keep meaning to give you something but for one reason or another I kept putting it off.”  There’s a hard to pinpoint tone to his words, almost as if he’s still not sure what he’s doing. But before Roy can ask any questions Ed grabs one of his hands and Roy suddenly finds himself holding something cold, metal, and heavy.

But far from unexpected.

He allows himself a sad smile as he runs his thumb over the familiar raised symbol.

“Your resignation.”

“Yeah.”

As far as Roy knows this had always been the plan so why…

“Why did it take you so long?  I half expected this before any of us made it to the hospital.”  He tries to give him a smirk, “Worried we wouldn’t let you rest in the super luxury of a military facility?”  He gestures in the dark to the room all around them. He may not be able to see it but he knows it is just as cold and uninviting as every other room in the godforsaken place.

Though Ed laughs at first, the sound fades quickly.  “I wasn’t…. sure.”

THAT Surprises the hell out of Roy.

“What do you mean?”

Ed sighs again and the scrape of the legs of his chair on the ground rings in Roy’s ears.  “You remember that whole thing with not knowing what’s next? Well, one thing I could see myself doing was, well…”  He pauses and Roy wishes - not for the first time or the last - that he could see his face. “I could see myself supporting you, after Al’s better.  Because you can be an absolute bastard but you’re a good man. But I’m also not an alchemist anymore and there’s no WAY I’m ever going regular military plus even if I did stay somehow who knows how long it’s going to take Al to fully recover and I - “

“Ed.”

“I didn’t want to make you sit around and wait for me to figure out what I wanted.”

Roy doesn’t know what to say.  

He had never in a million years thought the idea of sticking around would ever cross Ed’s mind, let alone enough for him to dwell on it.

“Fullmetal - “  he tries to find words.

But Ed interrupts with a heavy tap to the watch sitting weightier and weightier in his hand.  “Ahah! You don’t get to call me that anymore. I’m not a state alchemist.”

Now, Roy smiles.  “Ed.” He says, softer, and more fond than he intends.  

“That’s better.”

“If you choose to support us,” he heavily stresses the if, “whenever you’re ready, you can easily do so as a civilian.  But we,” Roy stops and shakes his head. “I don’t expect anything else after you’ve given so much. I’ll accept it - if you offer.”  Roy’s smile widens, somewhat sad. “But, Ed, there are no more expectations.”

The silence stretches between them, without so much as a movement from Ed.  His breathing hasn’t even changed so Roy can’t even begin to try and guess how he’s taken those words.

“Thank you, General.”  His thanks feels genuine and heartfelt, as if a little piece of another burden had been lifted from his weary shoulders.

“While we’re on the subject of names though,”  Roy says, “My civilian friends just call me Roy.”

This earns him a free and surprised laugh.  “Like you have any civilian friends.”

If he hadn’t before, he realizes with a start, he officially does now.


	2. Chapter 2

_ I’ve moved further than I thought I could _

* * *

 

> **10th of September, 1915**

When Ed was a very small child his whole world was the space between the schoolhouse, the Rockbell’s, and his own home.  Not much existed outside of that that wasn’t in his father’s books.

Until his mother died.

Then his world consisted of whatever moved them towards getting her back. 

Then Al.

He’s not sure, no, he is sure.  He’s never existed without something all-encompassing, all-consuming in his life.

It takes a couple of months for the restlessness to catch up with him.

The house is quiet, as is expected so late at night.

For the first time since the promised day, the quiet is killing him.  It's even quiet in his head, which makes it that much worse. He doesn’t have a problem to solve, a solution to chase.  he’s dedicated to helping Al recover but there’s nothing to DO for that except hold him up when he begins to fall.

Outside the quietness is broken only by the soft rustle of trees and the katydid’s singing their late summer tunes.  

They don’t help either.

A thought pokes at the back of his head, one he tries to dismiss.  

But he can’t shake it.

He wants to talk to Roy - not like the couple of times the first two weeks that felt too formal, too stiff.  They called during the day, just checking in.  He wants to talk like they did before he came home.

Roy kept the quiet from being suffocating.

Before he can stop himself, Ed is standing in the den with the receiver in his hand, ringing in his ear.

After only two rings it stops.

“General Mustang.”  He sounds exhausted and Ed curses silently.  

“Hey Ge- uh, Roy.  Sorry if I woke you.”

“Edward?”  He gasps Ed’s name, surprised no doubt but also maybe, excited?  “I was actually just getting home.”

“Still keeping you on those late nights, huh?”  Ed asks, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

“Damn right.” He yawns, though Ed can tell its a little exaggerated for effect.  “Never a moment’s rest.” He pauses, then his voice lowers, worried, almost as if he just realized exactly what time it is.  “Is everything okay?”

And damn if Ed has no clue what the hell to say to that.  There’s not a chance in hell ‘I just missed you’ would come out as anything but pathetic and, quite frankly, incredibly weird.  

But that’s what was wrong, right?

“I just, wanted to uh, see how you were doing?”

Well, that’s just, terrible.

“RIght.”  Roy laughs.  “And I’m the next Mrs. Armstrong.”

“Hey!  I’m allowed to check in on my friends every now and then”

“Calm down, Ed. I - “

“I am calm!”

Roy sighs for a beat, then says simply.  “Chess?”

“Oh god yes.  Hold on I still need a board.”

It doesn’t take long to dig granny’s old board out of the bottom of a shelf and set it up next to the phone.  He moves a chair over as quietly as he can and settles in.

Four moves in and Ed’s body is no longer clamoring to get out of his own skin.

About the time Ed realizes he’s calmed down, Roy speaks about something other than a move.  “How is Al doing?”

“Better every day.  He’s had some slips and his stomach sometimes still retaliates but Resembol’s been good to him.”  Ed really is happy with the progress his brother has been making. 

“That’s good to hear, Ed.  You don’t sound nearly as worried about him as you did in Central.”

“Rook H to F1.  It's uh, easier, for the most part, on me out here too.”

“Bishop to E8.  For the most part?”

“Yeah.  I don’t know its weird like, at first I liked how quiet it was out here.”

“Wow.  Never thought I’d see the day you enjoyed the quiet.”

Ed rolls his eyes.  “Shut up.”

But he can’t help smile at Roy’s laugh.  Ed continues, “You know what it's like when you sleep for the first time in days?”

“I used to.”

“And then once you really get a good night’s rest you get up ready to kick some ass again?”

“Aren’t you all out of asses to kick?”  Roy asks.

“That’s the problem.”  Ed groans and looks at the board in dismay, dragging his free hand down his face.  “Bishop captures Knight at C6.”

“Bishop captures Bishop at C6.”

Thoroughly done with this game, Ed asks, “What about central? And you?”

For a while, there’s silence on the line and Ed finds himself wishing they were back in the hospital waiting room so he could get a read on the man’s expression. 

“Most of the repairs on the city are completed.  Though command is going to take quite a bit longer.”  He says, all business.  

“Bishop to D4.” Ed interrupts.

“There’s just so much to do and investigate and shut down.  There are still some rogue elements to hunt down, hidden groups and pieces we hadn’t known about and then those loyal to Bradley who are trying to say we made it all up.”

Ed’s stomach twists.  “All of it?” He breathes out in disbelief.

“All of it.”

“Fuck.  That’s rich.”

“It’s something.”

Roy doesn’t continue or seem like he’s going to offer up any more information.  But Ed needs to know.

“And you?”

“Queen to F4.  Oh, I'm fine! Just a little tired most days.  That’s not going to change any time soon.” He tries to assure Ed.

And while he has no doubt the last part is true, Ed takes a deep breath.  

“Roy.”

“What?”

“You can’t bullshit me and get away with it like you used to.”

Silence falls again but this time Ed is too impatient to wait him out.

“Roy.”

“Fuck, Ed.  When did you start caring enough to push?”

Probably about the time he actually had room to spare in his life for anyone that wasn't his brother.  

There still isn’t just a whole LOT of space, but it's enough for him.

“If you hadn’t noticed, a lot has changed.”

“I thought I told you not to do that?”

“And since when do I ever listen to you?”

Surprisingly, this makes Roy laugh.  But as quickly as it comes, the sound fades to a groan.

“Everything is terrible.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t have to sound so smug about my misery.”  

“Sorry.”  Ed says with complete sincerity.

Which is apparently odd enough to surprise them both into silence for a moment.

But then Roy goes on, sounding even more exhausted than before.  “None of it is what I thought it would be though. The things I thought would be nearly impossible aren’t that bad and tasks I figured I'd get the hang of are just - pissing me off.  My pinpoint accuracy is shot, of course, but for the most part, I can trust a combination of my other sense and Hawkeye’s instructions. But do you know how much stubbing your toe on the same damn chair in your own home hurts, every, fucking, night?”

Ed tries very hard and is completely unsuccessful at holding back his laugh.  “Surely you’ve figured out where it is by now?”

“You would think.  But no. You would be wrong.  Every night. If I didn’t know better I’d say someone was moving it around on me.”

The sigh that escapes is just as unavoidable as his laugh had been.  “You know,” Ed starts, much quieter. “You don’t have to keep putting yourself through this.”

“Ed.”  Roy’s voice is almost strained.  “Don’t.”

“You’re punishing yourself for something you didn’t do!”  He has to use every ounce of willpower not to yell at him about it.

Again.

“There’s more to it than that, now.”

“Then explain it to me.” He demands.

“Marcoh could fix Havoc immediately because they knew exactly what was damaged and he could direct the energy to mending what was broken.  But my eyes aren’t broken, Ed. The mechanics, everything on the inside, it just isn’t there.”

The grief in his words hit Ed like a fist to his stomach.  Roy has tortured himself and pained over this and Ed comes around just to pick at his wounds.  Izumi pops up in his mind, reminding him about her encounter with Hohenheim.  _ Your organs were taken away as a testament to your sin and they cannot be brought back. _  But Roy’s were stolen! It wasn’t fair.

Ed wants to be sick.

“That… that doesn’t mean he can’t do it.”  

“Ah,” and Ed can picture the sad smile on his stupid face.  “See, that is not the 'Ed knows he is right' voice. It’s the 'Ed is being obstinate and refusing defeat' voice.”

This isn’t Roy.  This is defeat and everything Roy Mustang never gave into.  Ed digs deep to find something, anything, to say to him. Something to knock his senses back into place.

“Fuck you.”  Is all he can muster.

“Excuse me?”  Ed can’t tell if Roy is more hurt or angry.  Probably six of one, half a dozen of the other.

“Your need to be right, be the one who comes up with the perfect flawless plan for victory is so fucking deep…”

“That’s not it, Ed.”  He manages to interrupt, words dark and forced through gritted teeth.

“Then what?”  

“I told you.”

He hadn’t told him shit.  Not really.

But like another punch to the gut, Ed suddenly knows exactly what it is.  Every ounce of his anger vanishes, a sense of understanding creeping over him inch by inch.

“You’re scared.”  He says, quieter than he intends.

Now, Roy’s voice is shaking.  “You’re damn right I’m scared!  Fuck.” In the background of his call, a large bang is followed by the obvious sound of shattered glass.  “And if you tell anyone I said that out loud…”

“You know what?”  Ed lets a challenging edge slip into his voice, one he’s used on Roy a few times in the past and always seemed to work.

“What?”  He asks, more exhausted than ever.

“Be scared.”  Ed puts a smirk on his face and makes sure the taunting tone is loud and clear.

Roy takes the bait. “Wh-”

“Do it anyway.”

* * *

  
  
  


> **15th of January, 1916**

Roy has never been big on admitting when he's wrong.

Usually.  

This time, though - this time he is extraordinarily happy to admit defeat.

He and Ed have made sure to catch each other for a chess game every couple weeks, usually on the weekend.  To be honest, it’s all Roy’s fault they can’t call more since he’s the one with the crazy schedule.

They had a match Ed almost won the night before, so while Roy realizes it is out of the ordinary to call him right now - just a day later and not past midnight - he doesn’t care.

The sun is just beginning to set low in the sky while he lays back in his desk chair, closing his eyes and letting it ring.

“Rockbell residence!”

“Alphonse?”  Honestly, he should have known he would probably get someone else first.

“Y-yes?  Is this General Mustang?”

Roy laughs.  “Last I checked.”

“General!  It’s so good to hear from you!”  Always so bright and kind with his words, Alphonse sounds even more impossibly real and genuine not echoing in a suit of armor.  The sound still surprises him almost a year later.

“You as well.  I hear your recovery is going faster than expected.”

“Sure has!  I don’t know if I’ll ever have the strength to beat brother in a fight but I’ll eventually be able to hold my own enough to get away.”

“Always an excellent skill to have”  Roy assures him.

Al’s laughter is bright.  “So to what do we owe the pleasure?  Is everything okay?”

His concern and curiosity surprise Roy a bit.  While he realizes he doesn’t usually talk to Ed at this time of day, they are still fairly frequent occurrences.  There’s no reason Al wouldn’t know he was calling for Ed - unless - no…

“Everything is fine.  I was just hoping to talk to Ed if he’s around?” He asks, cautious.  

“Oh!  He’s outside let me just - wait.  Hold on a second.” Ah, there it is.  He HADN’T told anyone about his calls.  Because if Al doesn’t know, no one does.  “Are you his mystery late night caller?”

Roy forces a laugh, trying to not pay attention to how put off he is by being kept a secret.  “You mean he hasn’t told you who his regular chess matches have been with for the last four months?”

“Regular?   No. I just caught him once or twice… I bugged him to death thinking it was some girl but it was just you!”  Al sounds on the verge of laughter. 

In the background on Al’s end of the line, Roy hears a loud bang of a door slamming followed by Ed’s voice coming closer.

“What’s that look for, Al?  Who’s on the phone?”

“It’s for you.”

Ed sounds genuinely surprised.  “What? Who the hell would be calling me right now?”

Al’s voice is flat.  “You know exactly who.”

A long, heavy pause falls between them and Roy can almost picture the standoff, though his image of Al is still, he’s sure, not right.  A series of clicks and static rustles takes over followed by Ed’s tentative greeting. “Heeeeeey, Roy.”

And really, Roy can’t help but laugh.

“We’re going to talk about this later.”  Al threatens his brother.

“Buzz off, Al.  And go finish helping Granny outside before the sun’s completely gone.”  It’s not until another set of footsteps fades into a slamming door that Ed speaks to him again.  “So you are calling really REALLY early…” He seems, annoyed? But it may just be at Al.

“Well I have some news but now I’m kind of curious why Al was so surprised by my call?”

Ed snickers.  “Why? It hurt your feelings?”

That is a massive over exaggeration of his thoughts on the matter.  “Ed-”

“Shit, that’s not a no.  Look,” Ed explains, unprompted.  “It’s not - I’ve spent our whole lives sharing everything with him.  Now, I figured, it was time to get to have something important to me I didn’t have to share.”

Something settles in Roy and he smiles.  Maybe he had been a little hurt. Not that he would ever admit it.

“Fair enough.”

“Now, why are you calling?”  He asks again, less antagonistic.

“Well, I need to inform you -”  Roy takes a deep breath, little over dramatic with it, letting the beauty of the sunset outside of his office window fuel his excitement.  “You were right and I was wrong.”

“Uh…”  Ed’s obvious shock leaves him speechless at first.  “Hold on. I think I just saw a pig fly outside my window can you repeat that?”

Roy huffs.  “You heard me.  I’m never saying it again.”  Then he softens. “I thought about waiting until I  _ see _ you in Central again but I found myself not wanting to keep things from you I didn’t have to.”  Which is way more honest than he had been planning on being. He’s got to get better about being so loose with his thoughts around him.

Ed gasps.  “You didn’t!”

“I quit stubbing my toe!”

The other end of the line explodes in shouts of excitement, then, “Is it back to normal?  Completely?”

“I’ll need to wear glasses the rest of my life, but otherwise, yes.”  He has been smiling since he told Ed he was right and even the thought of a change to his perfectly youthful good looks doesn’t dampen it.

His excitement calming only enough to speak clearly, Ed says again.  “That is really awesome, Roy.” He falls quiet then adds, “Thank you, for telling me.”

Roy tries to hide his immediate shock and huffs a laugh that settles into an easy grin.  “Thank you, Ed, for pushing me.”

“Heh - anytime.  Oh, shit. Al’s coming back in and I need to hide.  Call you at our usual time for some revenge?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

  
  
  


> **3rd of June, 1916**

Tension wracking Ed’s body from head to toe is not only giving him a headache that pulses hard behind his eyes but is also keeping him from enjoying his game of chess for the first time ever.

“Queen takes pawn at E4.  Something is eating you.”

“King to F2.  I’m fine.” Ed spits out, nearly knocking over the board putting his piece into place.

“Pawn takes Rook at H1, promotion to Knight.  Checkmate.” Roy sighs. “In seven moves, Ed.”

Ed has to clasp his fist to keep from tossing the board and manages to force himself to rearrange it instead.  “Reset.” He grumbles through gritted teeth.

Roy doesn’t argue or say anything at all, actually, which is - different.  And nice. There’s no other conversation beyond chess for a while and eventually, Ed is forced to admit he’s losing again.

Everything is falling apart and the vice around his chest just won’t let go.

In a voice smaller than he’s felt in an extremely long time, Ed admits unprompted, “Al wants to leave.”

“Ahh.”

“Knight takes bishop at E7.  What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Roy begins in that haughty way he gets when he knows he’s right, “That suddenly your dour mood makes perfect sense.”  

Whatever the hell  _ that’s _ supposed to mean.  Ed grumbles. “Whatever.  Just go.”

“Queen takes Knight at E7.” Roy’s voice softens, understanding.  “And it means he wants to go alone.”

There’s really nothing to say to that.  He can’t argue with the truth no matter how much he despises it and like hell he wants to make it real all over again by saying out loud.

“Bishop takes Knight at F6.”

“Knight to F3 - Checkmate.” 

“Damn it.  Reset.”

They only make it a couple of moves before Roy pokes him again.  

“How bad was the fight?”

For some reason, Ed, exhausted of fighting both himself and other people, gives in immediately.  “Al had to fix the front deck with alchemy.” He admits, regret a sour taste on his tongue. “I haven’t lost my temper like that in a while.”

They continue for only a handful of moves before Roy oh so helpfully offers: “You’ve always known you weren’t going to be in each other’s pockets forever.”

“Bishop to E2.  I- that isn’t what this is about.  We did all that we did so he wouldn’t always need me around but he’s not ready.”

“Doesn’t Al get to decide that now?”

“No!”  Ed has to check his volume.  It is well after midnight and everyone else is asleep as always.  “No. He does not. It's not safe out there. There are people who know what happened, who will want to see if he’s different somehow because of everything.  And he can’t even defend himself yet!”

“Just because he can’t beat you in hand to hand doesn’t mean he can’t defend himself.”  Roy reminds him. Which is true, but the thought of saying it out loud makes a shiver go down Ed's spine.  And he sure as hell doesn't need to hear it.  “He’s got alche-”

“He. Is. Not. Ready.”  He grits out, his fist falling so hard most of the chess pieces fall over, some of them clattering to the floor.

“He is sixteen.”  Roy points out, still as calm as ever.  “Under the laws and principles of our country, he can literally do anything he wants.  He could join the academy, be appointed to political office, own a business, get married.  The only reason he hasn’t left yet is because you told him no and he loves you too much. But he’s going to keep pushing.”

“None of that matters if he’s not ready!”

“Says who?”  Roy asks, as understanding and calm as he could possibly.

It is probably why Ed gets so furious.  “Says me! And why the hell are you taking his side in this?  You are no fucking help at all, bastard!” He slams down the receiver, seething at the mess that is fucking everything.

Ed sees red for the second time, standing so fast his chair falls behind him and stomps through the house and out the front door into the night.  He doesn’t stop until he is well past the house, standing in the middle of a field and yelling at the darkness. All his rage making his skin feel too tight, every muscle tense.  Once upon a time he could clap his hands and release all his unwanted energy into a transmutation. 

But now…

Now he has nothing.

And he wouldn’t trade it back for the whole world but it leaves him floundering, drowning in a rage he doesn’t know how to release.

With a deep, steadying breath, Ed brings his hands together in a clap, then holds them out, letting an extremely complicated array be the only focus in his mind.

As expected, nothing happens.

Well, almost nothing.

Most, but not all, of the tension drains from him in much the same way it once did when that actually used to work.  His surprise knocks the rest of his anger out of his sails.

Instead of the rage taking his entire focus, he notices the cool breeze cutting through the warmth of the summer night, the sounds of the nocturnal creatures living their lives as if he wasn’t even there, and the stars twinkling far overhead on the moonless night, the sky painted in white pinpoints of light.  He takes another long breath, letting the scent of grass and wind fill his lungs, and realizes he just angrily hung up on the man he has come to consider one of his best friends.

At some point during over a year of late-night chess matches, it had become less about the game and the game just a good excuse to talk to each other.

Sometimes, they didn’t even play.

“Fuuuuuuck.”  Ed kicks the dirt at his feet and turns to run back into the house.

Roy picks up in half a ring.

“Ed?”

The worst part is, he doesn’t even sound angry.

“I’m sorry.”  Ed says without any hesitation.

Apparently, this takes Roy off guard because he stammers a bit. “I - wow.  Thank you, Ed.” He says quiet and sincere.

His anger gone, the only barrier between Ed and his grief and fear have vanished.  With the receiver in hand, Ed leans back against the wall and slides to the ground.

“I’m not ready for him to leave.” He whispers into the dark.

“Maybe you should tell him that.”  Roy offers.

“It won’t help.  Won’t change the fact that I’m being selfish.”  Because he really, really is. 

“I think you’ll be surprised.”

Shame curls around Ed’s stomach, both for what he is feeling and that he is admitting it, especially to Roy.  He can recognize that it is not fair to try and keep him here, to keep him close still, so why can’t he stop feeling this way?  He brings his legs up to his chest, one arm holding them close, and lightly bangs his head against his knees in frustration.

“I don’t want him to resent me, but I - I don’t know.”  He lets his head hang, finding loose strands of hair falling freely into his face, shielding him from the world.  “We spent six months apart before the eclipse. I  _ know  _ he can take care of himself.”

“This is different though, isn’t it?”  Damn him, why does he have to be so insufferably on point?  He hasn’t laid eyes on Ed in years and yet he still sees right through him.  

“He’s not a mountainous suit of armor anymore,”  Ed admits with a groan. “Not that he was invincible before but now he - damn it.”

“He bleeds and breaks just like the rest of us.”  Roy offers.  The pain of that reality should not weigh on him so much.  That was part of the deal, part of the package of being whole and human again.  As if reading his mind, Roy goes on. “He also feels the sun and wind on his face, and the warmth of touch and everything else you personally set out to tear the world apart and sacrificed so much to give back to him, Ed. The risks make the rewards  _ so worth it. _ But that doesn’t mean you are not allowed to worry.”

Silence settles between them while he weighs Roy’s words.  They echo his own thoughts, his own understanding of the whole thing but hearing them aloud, from someone he trusts…  “You probably think I’m acting like a foolish kid again.”

“Exact opposite, actually.”  There’s a smile there, Ed can hear it clearly, and it surprises him.  “A kid would kick and scream till they got their way. You recognize your anger is because you’re hurt and scared, and you’re trying to face it.  You’re not a child anymore, Ed. You haven’t been for a long time.”

Ed manages his first smile of the day.  Though it is small, it is real, and no less warming.  “There I go changing on you again after you explicitly told me not to.”

“I guess the one constant with you will be that you will never, ever listen.”

“Got you there, Roy.  I think this time, for once, I will.”

* * *

 

 

 

 

> **3rd of February, 1917**

Roy hates the north.

Actually, it isn’t usually anything except the cold that pisses him off about having to come up here.

This time though?

This time he’d had  _ plans.  _

But three days before he was supposed to take leave for a couple of days to Resembol, Grumman ordered him to go to Briggs instead.  He was headed there eventually but apparently, plans had to be moved up.

He might have thrown a fit about it.

“Rockbell residence!”  Al answers the phone after a long string of rings and for pushing two am he is extremely chipper.

The sounds of an ongoing party in the background may have something to do with that, though.

“Hey, Al.”

“Ro-” There’s another loud cacophony of shouts Roy recognizes voices in.  His whole team, save Riza who is with him, is there plus Denny, Maria, and Armstrong.

Roy curses again.

“Oh, sorry.  Hey Roy! I did what you asked.  He’s been pestering me all day.”

Anger finally cooling, Roy laughs.  “Thank you, Al. I appreciate it! Sounds like the party is going well.”

“Heh.  You could say that.”  Al takes a breath and then full on laughs.  “Ed tried to get away at the first ring but the boys held him down.  I slipped out so he wouldn't miss you!”

“I’m -” Before he can thank him Ed’s voice comes through in the background.

“Alright, hand it over.”

“Be quick,”  Al tells him.  “I don’t know how long I can keep them distracted.”

“There’s one last keg in the basement I saved for this reason.  Bring it up and it should keep them occupied long enough.” 

“Damn, Ed.”  Roy whistles, thoroughly impressed.  “I’ll make a strategist out of you yet.”

“Bah, they’re easy.  Put a little booze in front of ’em and you’re good to go!”

Roy laughs again, his smile lingering along with the warmth his mirth brings.  “Happy birthday, Edward.”

“Thanks.”  Ed says, his own smile evident in his voice.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help you celebrate.”  Some of his own humor fades with the cloud that settles back around him.

Ed’s, however, doesn’t.  “Ah, don’t worry about it!  I got the terrifying tales of the moment you got your orders.”  His laugh is loud and delighted. “They were lucky you didn’t burn down the office.”

Extremely lucky.

“It wasn’t that bad.”  He grumbles, well aware of how unconvincing he sounds.

“That’s not what I hear!  And it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so I’m choosing to believe it.”

“That’s just the alcohol.”

“It’s not only the alcohol.”  Ed answers a little too quickly.

Roy very purposely changes the subject.  “There should be a gift for you somewhere in that room.  I asked Al to hide it where you could find it?”

“Huh? Oh! Hey! Sneaky bastard this is where he put the damn thing.”  Roy had sent a note to Al to make sure his gift had stayed out of sight until Roy could call.  Probably had hidden in plain sight. There is only a moment of ripping sounds before Ed continues.   “Damn, Roy. This is nice!”

“I know you’re planning on leaving for Creta once the border is open again and I remembered that old piece of junk you used to tote around - probably falling apart.”

Roy had found a beautiful burgundy suitcase, still red, but not quite as ostentatious as Ed usually liked.  But it’s an exceptionally well-made case, with his last name on the handle and another gift tucked inside.

“You’re not wrong.”  Ed admits a bit of awe still in his voice.  

“Open it.  There is one more surprise inside.”

He waits while Ed fumbles around.  It doesn’t take long before he lets out a quiet, “Fuck me, Roy.  Did you make this?”

Apparently, he hadn’t been able to clear all the signs of alchemy.  “I didn’t come up with the idea of a travel-sized chess board, but I did make that one, yes.”  He’d used three different types of wood for the board, attaching the hinges and polishing the surface by hand.  It had taken him a LOT of attempts to get the small pieces correct, though. 

Ed is quiet.

There is an expectation in the gift.  Roy is aware of that, and that Ed is seeing it for what it is.  Roy can’t go, but he expects to be taken along. Their games will continue, one way or another.

“I know every once in a while you still need to see the board and I thought..”

“Thank you, Roy."  Ed interrupts, a touch of reverence in his breathless words.  "I promise I’ll take care of it.”

* * *

  
  
  


> **2nd of September, 1917**

In a little less than a month, Ed will be leaving for Creta.  

Peace treaties were signed months ago and the border has been open for a while.  It just took Ed a bit to get everything together.

He one hundred percent was not putting it off until they finished installing the international phone lines, which is still a good way off.

But Al has been gone for two months and it really is time to get moving again.

His travel papers arrived earlier in the day and he may have been staring at them for hours.  It is late on a Friday night and even though he is supposed to call Roy in a couple of hours, he really wants to talk to him now.

So he does.

Well, he tries.

After three rings the phone clicks and someone picks up.

But it is decidedly not Roy.

“Roy Mustang’s residence.”  It is a woman, with a deep and almost purposefully smoky, seductive voice.

It is not exactly the same but reminds him enough of Lust to make him queasy.

Ed freezes.  “Oh uh, is - is Roy there?”

“Of course.”  She answers sweetly.  “Only, he’s a little indisposed at the moment.  May I ask who is calling so I can have him call you back in the morning?”

He’s going to be sick.

“No.  No, that’s fine.  Thanks.”

Slowly, Ed replaces the receiver and then stares at it in severe confusion.

Roy had never mentioned seeing anyone - and he knows him well enough at this point to know the man would never bring someone he barely knows to his home - he’s too private for that.  So it couldn’t be a one-off thing. Though, Ed realizes, Roy doesn’t necessarily tell him everything. Surely?

Except - they kind of did?  Didn’t they?

But Ed couldn’t expect the other man to just - be around all the time.  Not only was he helping rebuild an entire country, but he also had to have a personal life that didn’t revolve around two am weekend chess matches with a former subordinate.  After everything they’d been through, Roy absolutely deserved to find something, someone, to keep him company.

Happy.

Warm.

Logically, Ed understands this.

So why the fuck does it hurt so damn much?

 

* * *

 

“Damn, Mustang.  You are popular that was your third phone call this evening.”

From his living room floor where he is currently bound, gagged, and seething in blind fucking rage, Roy glares daggers at the unknown woman staring down at him.

“I think it’s time to go, boys.”

Pain blossoms from the back of his skull and Roy’s world goes black.  

 

 

* * *

  
  


 

> **21st of September, 1917**

If people don’t stop trying to put holes in him, Roy is going to be more scar tissue than skin before his life is over.  Which could be sooner than later the way he keeps going. His headache still hasn’t gone away, despite finally being released from the hospital.

It has been a miserable couple of weeks - captured, tortured, rescued, surgery, and one boring ass hospital stay.

All he wants to do is go home, sip on a glass of warm whiskey, and call Ed.

He only has two days left to catch him before he leaves the country.

They’re already working on installing his new security gate and guard post when he gets home.  By the time he makes it inside, the sun is low in the sky and he has almost zero energy left.

So he skips the whiskey.

“Rockbell residence.”  Winry picks up after a couple of rings, voice cheerful.

“Good evening, Winry.  Can I speak to Ed, please?”  

“Oh.”  Her bright demeanor vanishes.  “I’m sorry, Roy. He left for Creta two weeks ago.”

Roy’s chest tightens.  “But that’s earlier than he had planned?” 

“Yeah.  He seemed upset but I assumed you knew since you hadn’t called.”  

He’s almost certain he thanks her but finds he’s hung up without really paying attention to what he’s doing.  His head hurts worse than ever, a pounding against his skull that seems to intensify with every breath. After everything over the last month, all the pain and the flames, all the misery and death, all he had wanted to do was talk to Ed again.  

But now, Ed is gone.  Gone to a country where Roy couldn’t reach him even if he knew how.  He can’t even write him a letter since the only solid plans he’d known about were ‘find a hotel in the first big city and figure it out from there’.  Where the hell would he send it? 

Roy lays down with a pressure on his chest, a hand pressed to his pounding skull, and a feeling he hasn’t let take him under in a long time.

For the first time in well over a year, Roy feels completely alone.   

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit, this got long. Sorry we skipped a day. As I was typing what was supposed to be this chapter up from my first draft I realized I hated it, re-wrote it, added two scenes and split the rest off to live with the next chapter instead. Which means the next chapter will be a couple days as well.  
> Enjoy!

  


_But I missed you more than I thought I would_

* * *

 

 

>   
>  12th of June, 1918  
> 

There’s a freeing feeling, exploring new places and meeting new people with no concrete end goals in mind.  There are no expectations - no favors to trade or secrets to hide. Creta is a country rich in history and vivid culture and Ed isn’t entirely sure he could ever absorb it all.  Or even a decent fraction of it. Not that that will stop him from trying of course. Their libraries are vast and varied and Ed finds himself lost in them more than once. Languages, history, their attempt at alchemy - all well documented and easy to fall down the rabbit hole into.

The people are nice too.  Some of them exceptionally so.

His second month there he had met a woman.  Vanessa, right about his age, who was… forward.  Which honestly is what Ed had needed to get the picture.  With dark, curly hair, deeply tanned skin and a no-bullshit sarcastic personality she had him roped in with her charm pretty quickly.  It helped that she was able to keep up with his meandering interests in the library. It all culminated one evening when she had found him buried in an ancient text, bribed him away with food, then kissed him until he was pressed against the bookshelf, kissing her back.

But, the angle was all wrong.  It was too soft, too different from everything he had ever expected.  Though he went through the motions he thought he was supposed to, his body never reacted, no increase in his pulse, no quickening of his breath, nothing.

It was as if he’d drawn every piece of an alchemical array exactly as he was supposed to but the transmutation simply wouldn’t come.

When she had figured out that he _really_ wasn’t into it, Ed had apologized profusely as she just shrugged.  Even though he continued to see her around the library, she never came to find him in the dark corners again.

Eventually, he left that city, moving further west.  More than once he managed to get himself wrapped up in local problems but really, he doubts he’ll ever get out of the habit of sticking his nose in things that aren’t his concern.  

He writes to Al, every few weeks, and manages to get a couple of letters from him though he knows they’re delayed due to the extreme distance.  Al probably won’t receive his very quickly either. Much like before, though, he doesn’t really communicate with anyone else. He doesn’t even know if the international lines were ever completed - he never thinks to ask.  

Until he gets to a small hotel on the border of Creta and Zaragoza.

It is so late it’s almost early by the time he checks in.

“Thank you, Mr. Elric.  I see you’re Amestrian! Did you hear the phone lines were completed last month?  We have phones in every room if you’d like to call and catch up with anyone!”

Her words keep repeating in his head on his way up the stairs, reminding him he hasn’t really spoken to anyone at home since before he left.  Hell, he hadn’t even said goodbye to anyone except Winry and Granny.

In his room, with the light of the full moon the only thing illuminating the space, Ed digs in his suitcase where his hands brush against a smooth, flat object.

He pulls it out and stares at it, the rounded edges and perfect squares across the polished surface.  The hinge opens easily, revealing a never used set of tiny chess pieces that he touches gingerly, as if they’ll disintegrate if he is not careful.  The white king shifts under his touch and Ed freezes when he sees a bright red flamel etched into the other side. He sighs and checks the black king, shaking his head when he finds the salamander there.

The time difference is enough that people should be in at Central Command by now - if he is still there.  There had been talks of sending him east again.

It takes five minutes and several operators, but he gets through.

“General Roy Mustang’s office.  How may I help you?” A young, professional sounding woman answers and Ed does a silent cheer the code Roy had given him still works.

Of course, he had promised him it always would.

“Uh, is the General in today?  I’d like to speak to him.”

“I do apologize sir, but he is fully scheduled for the day and won’t be able to take a call.  May I take your name and what this is in reference to and I’ll pass along a message for you?”

He has to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of it all.  Just a couple years earlier and anyone around Mustang would have known exactly who he was and dropped all pretenses… now…  “This is Edward Elric. Just tell him I called, I guess.”

“Thank you, Mr. Elric.  And can I ge- HEY!”

Another voice cuts into the line, this one much more familiar.

“Fullmetal!  Ed!?”

Ed can’t help his wide grin.  “Fuery!”

“HAHA! It is you!”  In the background Rachel is squabbling with him and if the static is anything to go by trying to wrestle the phone back from him.  “Hold on, don’t hang up! I’ve got pretty strict orders to tell him the second you call.”

Rachel’s voice goes distant but he can still make out her words.  “Yes, but not when he’s in a meeting with other Generals!”

The background arguments become more and more muffled.  While Ed waits, he frets. What the hell is he going to say to him?  Is Roy going to be mad he just up and disappeared and is now calling him at work?  

“Go ahead, General!”  Fuery says, excited, then the line clicks.

Short, deafening silence overwhelms him.

“Ed?”

Roy’s voice has a cautious tension in it.  

Ed rubs the back of his neck.  “Hey, Roy. Long time no talk, huh?’

“Edward.”  The amount of relief pouring from Roy takes Ed so off guard he has to sit down.  “You could say that. Where are you? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,”  Ed assures him with a soft smile.  “I’m alright. Still in Creta. Just figured with the lines finished and all I’d - I don’t know.”  Which is at least honest. He is still not sure what he’s hoping to accomplish.

“Well I am,”  Roy pauses with a laugh, a strange tension in his voice disappearing from one word to the next.  “Really glad you did. Look I just kicked two Generals out of my office to take this call and I really need to grovel a little and finish what we were working on.  But I nee- I want to talk to you again. Do you know the call routing instructions for where you are? Can I call you tonight?”

Ed is surprised but allows himself a faint smile.  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

* * *

 

Late that evening, while he is laying in the dark, staring at his ceiling and trying to remember why it had taken him so long to make that call in the first place, the phone finally rings.

He picks up before the first bell has finished.

“Roy?”

“Hey, Ed.”  Roy speaks quietly and Ed doesn’t know what to make of that.  

Not sure where to begin, Ed laughs awkwardly.  “Did you really kick out two generals just to talk to me for less than thirty seconds?”

“Would have done it for a lot less.”  Roy admits.

“Ha.”  Ed feels his stomach clench and rubs his hand down his face.  Every awkward pause and strangled word is his fault and that knowledge hurts down in his bones.

“So what is it like out there?  Meeting a lot of interesting people?”

“Eh, it’s not much different from Amestris, if I’m being honest.  There’s a lot of friendly people and a few not so friendly people.”

Roy’s dark and knowing chuckle is familiar.  “Let me guess. Your penchant for finding the not so friendly ones hasn’t changed much.”

“Guess not.”  Ed groans.

More silence falls between them, neither, apparently, sure how to proceed.  Should he apologize for disappearing? Explain what he doesn’t even get himself?  Act like it hasn’t been almost an entire year since they last spoke because he got spooked and ran off without saying goodbye?

The silence is a loud and clear indication the last one isn’t an option.

“Look, Roy…”

“Edward.”

They both laugh, a little strained, and Ed shakes his head.  “You first.”

“Alright.  I - I almost don’t want to know the answer but, why did you quit calling and leave so early?”  His words are blunt, and to the point, but there’s a wave of hurt in them that makes Edward hate himself and second guess everything.  Why had that damn woman upset him so much? Was it just that Roy hadn’t told him about her? No, that was idiotic.

“I just figured you had someone more important to occupy your time than some distant former subordinate.”

Roy sounds seriously confused.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I called early, too early, one Friday and a woman picked up and,”

“Fuck.  That was you?” Roy asks, letting out a heavy breath.

“Yeah, it was me.”  

“Ed,”

“I thought, why is he wasting his time with me when he has so much else to focus on you know?  Beautiful women to woo?”

“Edward.”

“I was pretty sure you wouldn’t miss me or anything and I don’t know why i -”

“Would you shut up for one damn second!”  Roy’s shouting throws Ed off balance and he blinks in shock.  “Thank you.” Roy sighs heavily and his voice becomes quieter again.  “Ed. That woman wasn’t someone I brought home from a date.” He laughs, though there isn’t any humor in it.  “I haven’t - I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“It doesn’t matter.  What matters is that she and three of her accomplices broke into my home and managed to take me hostage.”

Ed’s entire world spins.

“Fuck.”

He feels his pulse raging in his ears and his stomach hurts.

“You couldn’t have known.  They had me for three days but I managed to escape still mostly in one piece.”

Ed’s body shakes with anger at himself, at how stupid he could be.  “Roy…” He would like to say he speaks clearly but he’s well aware of how broken it sounds.

“I’m fine.”  Roy is being as reassuring as possible despite how awful Ed had handled everything.  “Though the hospital stay sucked without my chess partner.” he admits warmly and a little wistful.

He has to press the palm of his hand hard against his eyes to keep from reacting even as his chest tightens uncontrollably with anger and deep regret.  “Fuck. I’m an idiot. I jumped to stupid conclusions when you were in danger.”

“You had no way of knowing.”  He repeats.

“But even after,”

“No one outside my team and Grumman knew.  We kept it quiet, Ed. There is no way - “

“Unless I hadn’t been a stubborn idiot and not left early so I couldn’t try to reach you or vice versa.”  Ed says pointedly.

Roy doesn’t say anything at first then breaks the silence with a soft chuckle.  “There is that, I suppose.”

“Fuck.”  He says again because he hasn’t said it enough to really get his point across.  Ed throws his arm out and beats on the mattress with a tense fist a few times, still furious with himself.  He should have known something was off, something was different.

“Ed.”  Roy interrupts his internal turmoil.  “Why did whatever you thought was going on - why did it upset you enough to quit calling?”  He asks, cautious and flat as if guarding his real thoughts on the question.

That’s the million cenz question though, isn’t it?  It shouldn't have. Not really. There wasn’t any real, obvious reason and even when it had happened in the first place Ed had known his emotional response was illogical.  

“You still there?”  

“I don’t know.”  He half lies, very quiet.

“I haven’t even been on a date in years, and if I had I probably would have told you before anyone else.  You know how closely guarded I keep my private life. If someone you don't know ever picks up the phone at my home, something is wrong.”

Ed tries to laugh but it's stilted and forced.  “What, the famous Roy Mustang, savior of Amestris, doesn’t go out looking for a different beautiful woman to hang on his arm every weekend?”  The words feel like filth in his mouth. He hopes they didn’t come out that way.

“Not since,”  Roy starts but falls silent with a heavy, frustrated exhale.

“Since?”  Ed prompts.

“Not since I started planning my entire life around two a.m. weekend chess games, Ed.”  He says with confidence, saying his name like something important, special.

Extremely glad he is already laying down - as he may have needed to as suddenly light headed as he feels - Ed frowns.  On its own, the statement is innocuous enough. But he had just said he hadn’t seen anyone in years. And that he hasn’t been _looking_ for a while because of that - because of Ed.  Which is dumb. It has to be a mistake on Roy’s part or maybe Ed is just misunderstanding the entire situation.

Except he’s not.

He knows he’s not.

“Hey,”  Roy says, making him realize he hasn’t said anything at all.

“Liar.”  Ed manages, feeling smaller than he has in years.

“My secretary hates me because I had gotten to be such a hardass about it.  No traveling during those hours, no expectations of events both nights so if I missed one I could make the other.”

“Why?”

“Probably the same reason you ran away when you thought I was spending the night with a woman.”

He wants to argue, to shout that it’s a ridiculous notion.  Nothing could be further from the truth! Roy must be delusional.

“When did you know?”  Ed asks instead because he is tired of fighting himself.

“This morning.”

“What?”

“I was so pissed off at you. Honestly? I still am.”  Roy admits. “Especially after what happened at home and how much I had come to rely on - “  He stops himself and clears his throat. “I kicked the generals out of my office so I could yell and scream to chew you out for being so thoughtless about others and what they might be going through.”

“I would have deserved it.”  He admits quietly, thinking not just of now but all the years leaving granny and Winry in the dark.

“Probably.”  Roy takes a deep breath.  “The second I heard your voice though, I was so damned relieved.  My anger just - vanished.” He admits, his own voice soft and almost as shaken as Ed feels.

“Damn, if I can do that to your temper I must be special.”

“You can rile it up again just as easily you know.”  He warns, though his tone hasn’t exactly changed.

He doesn’t, more importantly, dispute Ed’s statement.

“Look,” Roy starts when Ed can’t think of anything to say. “I’m not going to ask you to start calling all the time or check in constantly or anything like that.  But just, every once in a while, if you’re bored, call for a game? And at least let me know how to reach you so when I’m having a bad day I know there’s someone out there I can call up and beat at something.”

Surprised at his teasing, at how the familiarity of his cockiness coated in a warm tone settles him, Ed’s tensions begin to melt away until he finds himself laughing.

“Damn, I missed you.”  Ed admits.

“I know.”  Roy says in a way that Ed can perfectly picture that stupid smirk of his.

“I missed the hell out you, too.”

* * *

  


 

>   
>  11th of August, 1918  
> 

Whatever is growing between them keeps Roy going on the hardest days.  When everything seems to be falling apart - when tempers flare and peace treaties are threatened, when no progress is made because of the stubbornness of men, when he is tired and weary and thinks maybe it would be easier to just give in - he has Ed.  Ed who always listens, surprisingly enough, and who tells him when he’s being an idiot in the bluntest ways possible that no one else in his life really can. Ed who distracts him with his own stories and ridiculous exploits.

Unlike when he had been in Resembol, they don’t stick to any kind of schedule anymore.  There are phone calls whenever phone calls can be made - almost always at night and never more than a few days apart.  

That part had surprised them both.  They admitted they had missed each other, yes, but he still hasn’t figured out if they’re both trying to make up for lost time or it really is just that good to let go and just talk.

Tonight, he lounges in his bed, ready for sleep, glass of whiskey in one hand, receiver in the other, and relaxes while listening to Ed rant on and on and on.  He tries to picture him, pacing back and forth, wrapping himself in the phone cord every once in a while (which has absolutely happened) with pieces of his hair flying loose here and there.

It’s a nice picture.

“Oh?”  Roy manages when Ed finally stops to breathe.  “That sounds a little, odd.”

“I know!”  Ed makes a noise of frustration and continues.  “He doesn’t have any idea what personal space is either, always breathing down my neck or touching my hands or arm.  I wish it wasn’t so damned hot here I’d go back to wearing my coat and gloves as my go-to attire. He’s just so,” He over exaggerates a retching sound, which just makes Roy roll his eyes.

Roy has never really been a jealous man.  When you’re as capable and confident (not to mention good looking) as he is there is little reason to be.  When he wants something very little can stop him from getting it. But distance is proving his handicap and the queasiness he feels over the question of whether or not he even has the _right_ to be jealous hurts.

He does his best to sound amused and cold.  “Did he do anything else that made you uncomfortable?”

“Eh.”  Ed mulls it over and almost reluctantly admits.  “He keeps saying things that - I don’t even know where they’re coming from and it's like he is trying to be nice but it’s also really weird.”

Roy takes a long, slow swallow of his drink to give himself a moment to hide the murder in his voice.  “He’s flirting with you.”

It burns in his throat.

“No!”  Ed scoffs.  “He’s got a wife.”

“You aren’t still naive enough to think that means anything at all.”

“But,”  Roy can almost hear the gears turning in Ed’s head and he expects a shout of anger or an embarrassed string of excuses that he doesn’t need.  What he doesn’t expect is quiet, troubled concern. “Roy. I - I’m not…”

Roy blinks in surprise, then feels something settle.  His voice softens as much as he can without giving himself away.  “And I didn’t say you were flirting back.”

Whatever Ed assumed Roy thought about the whole situation he isn’t revealing anything about as he falls into a familiar silence.  Roy knows he’s lost in his own head, over thinking things. He wants to say something, to bring him out of whatever train of thought he’s lost in.  But honestly, Roy isn’t sure where his own head is on the whole thing at the moment either.

“I’ll figure something out.  Somehow.” Ed finally says.

“I’m sure you will.”  He can’t help a huff of a laugh at the image of Ed beating the creep up just for looking at him wrong now that he’s more aware.  “Try not to figure it out with broken bones.”

“No promises.”

Which is really all he can ask for.

Ed’s entire tirade had started because of a stupid comment.  He had made it to Zaragoza a few weeks prior and in no time at all had found himself in the good graces of a highly regarded alchemist in the capitol.  Devon something-or-other. The language barrier had been made easier by the fact that both men knew enough of the other’s language to get by. That had seriously impressed Roy since Ed hadn’t been studying it long.  He wasn’t surprised, just impressed. Roy had made a quip that his looks were getting him through doors now that he didn’t have a flashy way to show off how exceptional he was.

Despite Ed’s rant, turns out, Roy had been right.

Sometimes he hates being right.

“What about the alchemy?”  Roy brings their conversation back around to the beginning again.  “Did you really say anyone can do it there?”

“Yes!”  Ed is still obviously in shock and no small amount of disbelief over the situation.  Not that Roy could blame him, he’s feeling the same thing. “But it’s kind of like, I don’t know, singing?  Technically, everyone CAN sing and it takes years to become an opera singer but no matter how long you study you’ll never make it if you’re tone deaf.  You can still sing, it’s just not pretty.” He has that even tone he gets when he’s explaining something - the evenness of his words, speaking as clearly and concisely as possible.  Not for the first time, Roy muses on what a good teacher he would make. “It isn’t like Xing, or Creta, or Amestris where some people can but most people will never be able to. After I gave up my gate it was pretty obvious to Al and I that not everyone was BORN with one.  But everyone here can do something.” Roy can hear the tension of a problem to solve slip into Ed’s words. “Even if it's ugly. And this place is HUGE! And diverse. It can’t be that every single person is born with it.”

Roy leans forward, swirling the whiskey in his glass around trying to puzzle that out with him.  Alchemists used their gate to draw energy from the earth to complete their transmutations. That much he understood after everything.  Without it, they would just have a bunch of useless shapes drawn on the ground. Someone Ed had run into in the last year had theorized they could accomplish a transmutation by pumping electricity into an array, but this didn’t sound anything like that.  Plus, Zaragozan arrays had an element to them Ed hadn’t puzzled out yet, at least, based on what he’s said to Roy about it so far.

“What if,” Roy says, cautious because he’s not sure he wants to know what the repercussions would be if he’s right.  “What if they aren’t using their own gates?”

Ed’s excitement is instantaneous and painfully obvious.  Whatever the implications may be it’s a new angle and he’s off again, barely catching his breath between words and thoughts as they all stumble out and spill over each other while Roy sits back and takes it all in.  He relaxes, and smiles, making sure Ed has a captivated audience and enjoying every last second of it.

* * *

  


 

>   
>  1st of October, 1918  
> 

“You know, if I’m distracting you from something, I can just go.”  Ed offers while absentmindedly fiddling with a puzzle box Duncan’s wife had gifted him.  It’s a surprisingly complicated mechanism but he isn’t really paying attention to it, just letting his hands have something to do while he and Roy talk for the first time in almost a week.  

“What are you talking about?”  It’s Roy’s first answer that is longer than a couple syllables and Ed smiles with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re barely actually here in this conversation.  I'm kind of tired anyway I can call you back tomorrow?” He says, trying to give him an out.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, now I know something is up because that is not what I asked.”

The long, steadying breath Roy takes makes the line crackle.  “I’m sorry, Ed. I keep trying to figure out a problem and my brain just won’t let it go.”

Ed perks up and sets his puzzle box beside him.  Problems he can do. “Let me help you. I’m pretty good at problems - even those whose solution isn’t ‘punch them in the face.’”

He’s trying for a laugh, anything to get the idiot to cheer up and actually quit sounding so fucking defeated.

“I’ll manage, thanks.”

For the first time, Ed can feel the massive distance between them.  It’s been so easy over the last few years with all the phone calls to never think of him as very far away.  Hell in some of the better places he’s stayed if he closed his eyes he could imagine he was right there in the room with him.  But now, it’s like a massive door has been slammed in his face. Unfortunately for Roy, Ed’s never been one to let a thing like a closed door stop him from punching his way through.

“Come on, I - “

“You can’t help.”  Roy interrupts, losing the distracted tone in favor of his curt, military mask.

“I probably could if you just tell me what is wrong with you.”  It’s rare, at this point, that Ed can’t tell if he’s just angry, if he’s hurt, if he’s reminiscing about the past, or just exhausted with everything.  So often as soon as he knows how Roy’s feeling he’s usually got something that’ll brighten him up, even if it doesn’t fix all the problems - especially since not every problem can be fixed.

“I can’t.”

Ed feels the first pang of anger twitch in his chest and he tries to ignore it.  “You can’t or you won’t?” He asks, a little harsher than he intended to.

“I can’t.  Even if I wasn’t on an unsecured international line I can’t just share all the military problems with you anymore.”  Not that he ever did or could so why the hell should that matter?

“It’s not like I need details to help ch-”

“What good could you even fucking do?”

It’s a slap in the face and for the amount of pain that blossoms and the heat that rises through his cheeks it may as well have been real.  He wants to be angry. He wants to be _furious._ Because that is easier than this.  Rage is easier than the lump he finds in his throat or the twist in his gut that maybe he’s wrong about everything.  

He cares about Roy, more than he’s ever cared about anyone except Al.  And this is so vastly different from the _way_ he cares about Al that it is terrifying.  There’s so much that he wants from Roy, more than just to talk to him and be with him but to be there FOR him.  But he’s getting shut out, and he doesn’t know for sure if he’s the only one who wants it because they never _talk_ about it.  

It fucking hurts.

“Roy.”  

Ed says quiet, and flat, in the stillness that has spread like ice between them.  He’s terrified of the answer. He needs to ask, even if he doesn’t want to know in this moment.

“What are we?”

_Are we friends? Are we more?  Are we fooling ourselves that two hard-headed, stubborn idiots who aren’t even in the same country could ever be more than what they were?_

This, more than anything else, seems to defeat Roy’s stoic facade and his voice crumples right alongside Ed’s hopes.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

  


 

 

 

>   
>  5th of October, 1918  
> 

The rain at times seems an incessant thing.

It drenches the street and the ground is saturated with it, washing away loosely held patches of dirt and grass, obscuring the world in muted greys and a constant din of noise.  It’s softer now than it has been in days, but the drumming assault on Roy’s umbrella echos through his ears as if it is just as torrential as when it began four nights ago. The smell of it permeates everything, the hint of freshly churned earth reminds him this is a good thing, that rain brings more than just gloom.  But the crispness of the fall air cuts through to his bones.

Even the warmth of good friends couldn’t drive it out.    

Roy walks home, slowly, half dry under the protection of his umbrella, and doubts.

It had been a celebration and a send-off of sorts.  Kain Fuery’s last night out, one more hurrah, as a ‘free man’.  At least that’s what Jean had called it. Jean who was already perfectly happily married and knew full well that while things would change, they would not change for the worst.  Though if Roy never saw the young man out on one of their get-togethers again he would still perfectly understand. Ever since the day Kain had met her - Jessica, a plump, short young baker with long chestnut hair almost always tied in a messy bun and a chocolate smear on her pale cheek - Kain had been lost to anyone else on the planet.  That first month his team probably put on a good thirty pounds between them from all the treats she’d kept sending over.

“She keeps you happy?”  He’d asked the groom-to-be.   

At first, he’d looked at Roy as if he’d asked a stupid question.  Which, on the surface, it had been. Everyone knew how he felt just by the doe-eyed look he got in his eyes just by thinking about her.  But, for whatever reason, Kain shifted, his confused smile becoming something more empathetic. It was as if he heard or saw something in Roy’s question - something that Roy hadn’t exactly intended to let slip through.

“Just by existing. She doesn’t even have to do or say anything she just, makes everything worth it.”

As Roy turns the corner for the final block of his journey home a car rolls by, its lights blinding him momentarily before splashing days of rainwater high over his coat.  

_Might as well have a body that’s as cold and miserable as my thoughts._

At the edge of the property, he stills and stares.  There is nothing out of the ordinary, just a modest home with a ridiculous security fence complete with a small, one-man guard gate.  The street lights’ reflection dances in the puddles lining the sidewalk but their light never makes it into the darkness past his carefully guarded fence.  At first, he’d thought it over-kill but as the threats to his life became more and more real, he’d had to take the Fuhrer's insistence on the measure more seriously.   Now, he laughs at the futility of it. Today, the only threats to Roy Mustang are a General with a grudge, and his own damned head getting in the way of his heart.

He hasn’t spoken to Ed in four days.  Not since they had both agreed they were exhausted and needed sleep.  Not since Ed had tried and failed to get Roy to admit that he was capable of any sort of emotion beyond stoicism and the occasional sense of humor.  But he’d shown him that, right? Over the years...

Inside, with his door closed and locked up tight, Roy closes his eyes and huffs a breath, grumbling when he opens them again to find his glasses completely fogged over.   

The motion of removing his glasses, of pulling out a half damp handkerchief to remove the clouds sparks a memory, an action he’d seen time and time again a lifetime ago.   _What would you tell me to do, Maes?_ He thinks, shaking his head.  He’d always had the answers, the best way to do things, approach people, fix shit Roy got himself into time and time again.  

Replacing his glasses, the world comes back into focus.   _No._ He thinks.   _I don’t need to figure out what Maes would tell me **to do**.  I need to do what he _ **would do** _in this situation._

And that is apologize, like a fucking adult.

He had yelled at Ed, shut him out, and then lied to him.  

Because Roy knows.  Roy knows exactly what they are to each other and he was too chicken shit to say it.

While he changes and dries off, Roy spends at least half an hour trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.   _I’m sorry that I’m an idiot._ Is what he keeps going back to, but he knows it is not enough.  He cares about Ed, he can at least acknowledge that much now, and he cares deeply.  He just wishes he could show him.

Dried off and in clean, warm clothes, Roy brings a fire to life in the hearth of his study.  It crackles and pops, the only sound breaking through the silence of his thoughts while he sits and stares at the phone on his desk as if watching it would make him magically have the answers.   

When it rings, he bangs his knee on the wood of his desk from the way he jerks at the shock.

“Mustan-”

“We need to talk.”  

Roy’s stomach drops like lead with the way Ed spits those words out.  “Ed. I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, sure you were Roy.  Listen.” He barrels through, never giving Roy a chance to interrupt, barely even breathing.  “I’ve been thinking about this the last few days and I really, really need you to understand that if we’re doing whatever the fuck this is we’re doing you don’t have to handle everything on your own anymore.  Not that you ever did. It took me years to figure that out and I may have written an apology letter to Winry and Granny this afternoon while thinking about it but I need you to get with the program way faster than I did.  And I don’t expect you to tell me all your classified secrets but… Damn it.” His voice finally breaks and like a dam giving way to all its cracks, all his emotions pour out with them in a torrent. “Damn it, Roy. I can’t SEE you to know if you’re angry or in pain or confused or just tired.  And I’m not there to just kiss you until you forget so you need to _talk to me.”_

Roy’s smile is sad but relieved.  He has to lick his lips slowly and take a deep breath so his own words aren’t as shaken as he feels.  “Ed, I’m sorry.”

“What for?”  

“Where to start.  For snapping. For being so cold.  For being an idiot. Ed, if you were here, I would probably tell you everything - clearance be damned.  But you’re not and I - wait.” Ed’s words play out through Roy’s mind again, over and over in rapid succession until just half a sentence sticks out.  “Did you - did you say you would kiss all my problems away?”

Ed takes a deep breath, almost as if bracing himself.  “There is a distinct possibility that happened.” He groans and his next words are muffled, likely from a hand covering his face.  “It would make this a lot easier.”

_But maybe not better_ , Roy thinks as much as he doesn’t want to admit it.  This way - this way is exponentially more difficult than just getting out all their frustrations physically, intimately.  But it forces them to be something else, something more. They can’t ignore what needs to be said with heated touches and desperate kisses - as much as those desires are starting to fill Roy’s heart.  No, the both of them need this foundation to be as solid as possible if it is to withstand the tempest that is their lives; the rest can come later.

“Ed.”  Roy lets his head fall into his free hand, resting there while he cuts himself open to lay everything bare.  “What we are I can’t - I can’t put a word on that. But I can put to words what you are to me. You’re important to me.  I care about you, deeply. I miss you with everything I am. When we go a few days without speaking all I can think about is how to get away to make time for you.  I - You make the darkness easier to navigate.”

“And you’re a sap.”  Ed responds even though there’s nothing but affection in his words.  “And I guess, no, I know I feel the same.” Though he speaks quietly, its with such confidence and conviction that Roy knows he means it.  Ed may never have the flowery words Roy can come up with some times, but they’ll never mean less for it.

Roy can’t stop the smile that slowly spreads as something in his chest clicks into place.  “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be smut.  
> And _feeeeelings_.
> 
> I debated making this note but even though I see it as such a little thing I didn't want it to catch anyone off guard. The first section of this chapter has Ed dealing with the aftermath of unwanted physical sexual advances. If that bothers you, scroll down to January 24th.

_I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be_

* * *

 

  


 

> **9th of December, 1918**

 

 

Ed feels filthy.

On top of his skin crawling over every inch, his fist hurts and rage boils quietly in his veins.  The anger is a familiar comfort, surprisingly, hiding the rest of his torment that he’d rather not pay any attention to.  Floors creak under the heavy storm of his steps and he may owe a damage fee after the force with which he slams his hotel room door.

He tries, several times, the process of picturing complicated alchemical arrays to calm himself down.  It has been his go to for a long time.

And it just makes everything worse.

A shower, as hot as he can stand, doesn’t make a difference.

It is really damned late in the night - Roy is probably sleeping.

But he can’t think of anything else.

Ed sits on the edge of his bed, his head in one hand and phone ringing in the other.  It goes and goes, each tone reminding Ed just how late it is in Central. Just as he moves to hang up, a weary, sleep ridden voice picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Ed barely gets out.  “Sorry I woke you.”

“No.  No, it’s fine, Ed.  What’s wrong?” Roy’s concern quickly overtakes his exhaustion, even if he does try and stifle a yawn.

“It’s just - damn it.”  Ed runs a hand through his damp hair.  “Everything has gone to absolute shit and I am awful at reading people when it’s not a life or death situation and I thought he was telling the truth when he agreed to my pretty strict terms of him teaching me.”  He rambles on without stopping, speaking more quickly with every word.

“Ed.  Ed, hey, take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”  Roy, fully awake now, manages to get something to settle in his chest and some of the rage abates.  He calms him, without even asking.

“Devon tried to kiss me.”

“He what?”  On reflex, Ed pulls the phone away from his face half expecting to see flames shoot out of it.

“You heard me.”  He really doesn’t want to repeat it.

“Start from the beginning.”  Though Roy slips into a commanding tone Ed knows well enough by now that, like Ed’s anger, it is his own protective shield.

“I finally managed to pull off Zaragoza’s version of alchemy.  It was just a tiny thing and I was so fucking happy. But what I had neglected to learn was just how much energy it zaps _from the person doing it._  At least until they’re used to it.  So I blacked out for a second - more like a really long slow blink.”  He rubs his eyes to try and push out the images that come swelling back.  “When I opened my eyes again I had been pushed against a wall with a face full of _him_ and his hands - “ Ed cuts himself off with a shiver and makes a face.  What he doesn’t say is how long he had hesitated, how his treacherous body had leapt at the warmth of such a strong, solid person that close.

“What did you do?” There is murder in Roy’s voice, the quiet, terrifying kind.

“Well, I didn’t kill him.”

“Shame.”

“But I did punch him so hard I might have broken something.  Then I went downstairs and told his wife who just laughed, came here, showered and called you.”  For the first time, he laughs. “Really pissed I can’t just punch a bunch of holes in the wall then fix it with alchemy.”  

“I’m sure it would help.”  Roy says, clearly still masking his own feelings on the matter.

“It would help me something.” Ed grumbles.  

“So other than a raging ball of spitfire are you - okay?”

“It is mostly just the rage.”  He admits, ironically enough, rather calmly.  “Honestly, at myself.”

“Ed.  You can’t control another person’s actions.”  Roy’s declaration is fierce and Ed spares half a smile at his protectiveness, unnecessary as it is.

“I know that!”  Ed flops back onto the bed with his hair splayed out all around him, staring at the ceiling.  “The only reason he got close enough was because I phased out for a minute. It's not THAT it happened it’s... “  Ed makes a sort of uncertain whine before barreling ahead. “Do you remember me telling you about the girl I kissed in Creta?”

That seems to throw Roy off and he takes a long time to respond.  “Um. Yes?”

“When she - when we kissed nothing else happened, nothing you would expect to happen when you’re being kissed like that, anyway.”  He remembers how flat he had felt, how completely unaffected. “But this time…”

“Ed..”

“Roy.  I am not blaming myself. I promise, okay? It’s not like he got anything more in than a ten-second grope.”

Roy takes a deep breath and lets it out with a huff of an unamused laugh.  “Okay.”

“I am angry at him yes, but also because I wanted the first time I actually got all hot and bothered by someone’s touch it would be from you.”

“I - oh.”

“Yeah.”

This is the first time Ed has mentioned any physical desires beyond kissing for Roy out loud, and despite the circumstances, he doesn’t regret it.  He wants Roy. He wants Roy a lot. He wants to forget this night ever happened and just imagine Roy and his mouth, and his hands, and his… everything.

“Tell you what.”  Roy offers, smirk evident in his voice.  “How about you promise that the first time you _willingly_ get turned on by someone trying to kiss you, it is with me?”

“Ha.  Deal.”  He agrees in earnest.  The thought of being kissed by him is quickly warming Ed from his core, the heat rising and settling through his skin like a warm blanket until he sinks into the comfort of it.  “How would you, anyway?”

“I don’t know if now is a good time.”

“What better time?  I’ve been too chicken to say anything till now.”  Ed admits. “I know you’ve got - ideas.”

Roy’s sigh is heavy.

“Don’t make me beg, Roy.”

“If I get started talking about how much I want you I won’t be able to stop.”  He warns.

“Tell me.  Tell me how much you want me.”  Ed knows how he sounds, desperate and pleading. 

_Make me forget anyone but you has ever thought of me that way._

Whatever Roy hears in his voice it seems to break him down and he groans.  

“Damn it, Ed.  I don’t know how to tell you how much I want to see you.  How much I want to touch every inch of your body until I’ve memorized it better than my own.”  Roy’s voice has gone dark, affecting Ed almost as much as his actual words. “How when you laugh I wish I was with you to capture it with my lips.  I want to taste you, not just your kiss but your skin and your breath when I touch you.” The heat that had started in Ed’s skin sparks into a smoldering flame, filled by the pure honesty and desire coming from Roy.  

He doesn’t stop there, going into great detail just how much he _needs_ from Ed.

Ed lets his words wash over him, wrap him up in a warm layer of comfort and wanting that feels so right he can’t help but grin like an idiot.  He can’t return the favor, not as beautifully as Roy does anyway, but that doesn’t stop him from trying, from letting Roy know in his own stilted way just how much he feels the same way.

They talk for what feels like hours, even after their conversation turns to gentler topics, they keep going far longer than usual, deep into the night until sleep threatens to steal both of them away.  

And when it does he dreams not just of heat and desire, but of comfort.  He dreams of being held and cared for and so very wanted.

  
  


* * *

  
  


 

> **24th of January, 1919**

 

It had taken several weeks for Ed to ask for a repeat of their last conversation - which Roy had been more than happy to oblige.  But, for the time being, it had remained as nothing but words, softly spoken in earnest.

In the meantime, Ed gets closer to an understanding of Zaragoza’s alchemy, though he only tries doing it once more.  He shares it all with Roy, how much he learns, how wrong the transmutation had felt. Eventually, he had also admitted how scared he was that tempting Truth would hurt Al somehow.

Those were the important conversations, the ones where they shared bits and pieces of themselves, Ed’s worries, Roy’s fears.

“Hey there, Roy.” Ed picks up after several rings, breathless.

“Ed.  Am I…”  He pauses, feeling warmth pool in his stomach from the sounds coming through the receiver.  “Interrupting something?”

Ed’s breath hitches and all sorts of images start flooding his mind.  As important as all their other conversations had been, he doubts this one is about to disappoint him.

“I am, mm, kind of in the middle of something.”

“Well don’t stop on my account.”

“Hadn’t planned on it.” The sound of skin on skin and occasional soft gasp from Ed has Roy’s body paying rapt attention and he presses a hand firmly against his own growing erection, the pressure a bare hint of relief.  Ed sounds nothing like he had imagined. He is quiet, all soft sounds and the occasional whine slipping through his lips or a deeply pleased moan his mouth doesn’t even have to be open to hear.

“Ed.”

“Just, uh, tell me about your day?”

“Seriously?”  Roy asks in disbelief.

“Just a normal, ah, conversation.”

And really.  Roy can’t contain his laugh.  “Should I start at the beginning?’

“...sure.”

“Like how I woke up half-naked in my big empty bed?”  Ed doesn’t respond with words, only a wanton groan. “Or how I went straight to the shower?”

“What, what was that like?”  With every stroke, Ed’s words get breathier.  

Roy lets out a deep hum.  “Normally pretty quick but I took my time this morning.”

Another non-word, a sound of growing pleasure and a lack of control.

He lets his voice drop low, dripping with the heat of his own desire.  “Thinking about our conversation last week.” Ed sounds dangerously close with small gasps for air as if he can’t bring himself to let go.  “I came thinking of you, Ed. I always do.”

“Fuck - Fuck, Roy!”  Complete silence then seems to span for ages before Ed shouts a long, incoherent sound of his release.  It’s the most beautiful sound Roy has heard in years and he wants to commit every single second of it to memory.  He’ll come hard at the thoughts of it later, but for now, he lazily runs his hand along his length, content with what Ed has just shared.

“Damn, Ed.  You sound amazing.”

“Yeah?”  He hums again, sounding half drunk, and Roy wants to kiss the smile he knows has taken over.  ‘It felt fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Not weird?”  He asks, cautious after some of their earlier conversations.

“With you, not even a little.”  Ed assures him lazily, post orgasm haze obvious in his words.  “Actually…”

“Yes?”

“Hearing your voice made it better than ever.”

Who wouldn’t feel a little smug at that, really?  “Careful,” he warns, purposely letting his voice dip low again.  “High praise like that might go to my head.”

“Ah, for once, let it.”  Ed lets out a long, drawn out, content sigh which just makes Roy laugh.

“Why the change of heart?  Not that I’m complaining.”

“Mm, it was more of a last second decision.”

“Oh?”

“I honestly didn’t think you would call me tonight since you called last night and we talked for four days in a row already this week.  So I uh, headed to bed early.”

‘But when I did call?”

“Wa-haaay too close to quit and not regret it and like hell I miss talking to you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“It’s all you, anyway.”

* * *

 

 

> **27th of March, 1919**

“I miss you.”  Ed blurts the moment Roy picks up the phone.

For his eagerness, he gets a deep laugh in response.  “You’ve got to stop going places you can’t get access to a phone.  It was only a little over three weeks, even if it did mean I missed your birthday.”

“Ah,” Ed waves a hand.  “You’ll make it up to me.”

He had been following a lead on their alchemical methods that took him out into the wilds past Zaragoza’s borders.  It had been more than worth it, for his research, but had left him incredibly lonely.

“Eventually.”  Roy assures him.

“So! Only three weeks, huh?  You didn’t miss talking to me?”  Ed asks, hoping he is effectively hiding the caution there.  He has been worried, since things started getting more intimate, that Ed couldn’t live up to his end of the bargain, being so, well, novice and all, and that he’d bore Roy pretty quickly.

“Of course I did.”  Roy doesn’t hide his emotions, worry coming through crystal clear.  “Especially since I had no idea how long it would be.”

Ed bites his lip.  “I’ll try to be better about sending updates?”

“No.  You won’t.”

“You’re right.”  Ed sighs, no longer having any issue admitting that out loud.

Every once in a while anyway.

“Is something else bothering you?”

He flops back onto the bed and covers his eyes with his free arm.  Always sees straight through him from halfway across the damned world. “How the hell do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pick up so much from me when you can’t even see me?”  Ed absolutely does not whine.

“Ed,” Roy starts, fond and not hiding his amusement.  “I haven’t laid eyes on you since before we were cooped up in that hospital together four years ago.  I’ve adapted and you are deflecting.”

How the hell is he supposed to admit this without sounding dumb or worse, young.  Which is the real heart of the matter, if he’s honest with himself. “I’m worried.”  He takes a slow breath to steady himself. “About something I feel really stupid worrying about.”

“Oh?  What about?”

“I don’t - it’s not,” He fumbles.  The heat of embarrassment blooms through his skin and he knows he’s blushing from it from head to toe.  Good thing no one can see him. “It’s uh, my experience.” He eventually mumbles.

There’s a pause when Ed worries he’ll laugh, but he’s too good to him for that.  “Your experience? With what?”

“Damn.  Where to start?”

“Is this about us?”

Damn him.

“Yeah.”  Fuck it. If he can’t admit this to Roy this thing with him isn’t going where he thinks it is.  “For the first time in my life, I don’t know what I'm doing and book learning,” because there had been a LOT of books “Has nothing on _practical_ experience in this area.”

There is a seemingly endless pause before Roy breathes out an “Oh…” as if he’d just figured out _exactly_ what Ed was talking about.

“Yeah.”

“Does it help to know I'm not worried at all?”

Ed blinks up at the ceiling.  “Depends on why.”

“Because,” Roy starts, voice getting that beautifully, purposely deep timbre.  “A difference in experience doesn’t have a thing to do with compatibility. Because we ALREADY have fun and it’s just over the phone.  But mostly because I know you do anything you care about with passion and abandon and I can’t wait to have that all turned on me _in a good way. “_

The laughter bursts from Ed unexpectedly and he shakes with it, even as he blushes deeply all down his warming skin.  

“Plus,” he continues, sounding playful.  “I have absolutely no issue letting you try anything you’d like to put into practical application on me.”

“Now that is the most tempting thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“You know,” Roy says, “We could try something new right now if you want?  Let me go ahead and make up for missing your birthday?” Even though it was 100% Ed’s fault.

Ed’s entire body is instantly on board just with the promise in Roy’s voice.

“Yeah,” He says, letting his free hand wander down his own body.

“Did you pick up that oil I recommended?”

“What?  Oh, yeah.”  It hadn’t been the same brand, of course, but he had managed to find something made of the same basic ingredients.  

“Good.  You're going to need it.”  

Fifteen achingly long minutes later Ed is laying back on his bed in the darkness, naked and hard as Roy guides his every movement with his words.  Somehow, he can tell when Ed hasn’t done something exactly the way he was instructed and when he corrects him he always winds up wishing he had just listened in the first place.   _Harder than that, not so fast, Ed.  Savor it for me._ When he shuts his eyes he can almost imagine Roy is the one touching him with the way his voice purrs low in his ears and drips with his own desire.  He lets his hands wander as if he’s putting on a show, teasing himself in every way Roy tells him to until he’s begging to do more. There is nothing stopping him, of course, nothing but Roy’s words.  The delight and excitement of it all swims through his veins until he’s light-headed.

“Ed,” Roy’s breath hitches and it's obvious he bites back a moan.  “I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers.”

“I - I haven’t - “

“I know.  I’ll talk you through it.  I promise. Please.”

As much as he’s dreamed and desired and ACHED for Roy to have his way with him, he’s never attempted to explore this on his own.

Of course, he’s not on his own now, either.  Not really.

As before, Roy guides him through everything, how to sit how to tease himself and help him relax.  He doesn’t need to be told how to do this, not really, but oh does he love it. There are no demands, only gentle guidance and soft pleads, coaxing action out of Ed and sounds of his own pleasure.  

On his knees, with slick fingers teasing at his own entrance, Ed feels more vulnerable and open than ever.  

“Tell me how it feels.” Roy begs when Ed finally presses inside.

“Good.”  He manages.  “Different. I - I didn’t realize - ngh.”  His body shudders and his breath is caught in his throat.

“Push harder, both fingers.  Don’t hold back.”

He wants to say something, make some kind of retort, but as soon as he does what Roy asks of him his mouth falls open with a wordless noise at the bright sparks that ignite through his body and in his vision.  Not just across his skin but down through his muscles and into his bones. Before Roy can say anything else Ed is rocking back on his own hand, pressing deeper, as deep as he can from this angle, with every downward motion, filthy, needy whines the only sound he can manage to make.

“Fuck, Ed.  Yes. just like that.  I wish I could see you right now, how you look just like this.  I want to see you come apart from me. From my mouth, from my hands,”

“I want - I want you.”

“Come on, Ed.  Let me hear you come.”

It’s all too much but not enough.  He is riding on the edge of release and he knows there is not enough, not enough pressure, not enough force, and his release is right _there_ but he can’t reach it no matter how much he tries.  It doesn’t help his other hand is occupied in holding the phone so he can hear Roy’s delicious voice.  But he aches to be touched.

“I can’t,” he whines, drawing out the words through clenched teeth.  

“Just let go.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

The receiver falls to the bed beside Ed’s leg and he takes himself in hand.  With only a few, quick strokes his muscles clench all over, from his shoulders and his abs down to his legs and around his fingers.  His release knocks the air from his lungs as it pulses through him.

A cool, tingling sensation spreads from his body from the base of his spine, like he’s been dipped in a pool of water on a hot day and it takes him a moment to remember what he’s doing, for the haze of his orgasm to clear enough to pick back up the phone.

When he does, Roy sounds like he’s trying desperately to keep himself on the edge and Ed hums with the lingering pleasure coursing through him.  “Roy,” He lingers on his name, drags it out into a moan. “Roy when you see me,” he says, voice raspy from his gasps for air, “I want you to fuck me. I need it.  I need you.”

Roy comes with a string of curses and Ed’s name pouring from him, settling down into shaky breaths that crackle directly into the phone.  When the silence settles between them, broken only by their heavy breaths, Ed falls back to the bed and nuzzles into his pillow, more content that he’s felt in ages.  For the first time, he entertains the idea of just giving up this wandering life of his and going straight back to Central and into Roy’s arms.

It’s a strong urge, laying there, listening to Roy slowly start to murmur his praises, and for now, he holds onto it loosely.  He can’t, not yet. He has too much to do.

But he lets himself dream of the day he will finally give in.

* * *

  
  
  


 

> **15th of April, 1919**

Roy never assumed being a general would be a picnic.

Especially after everything he has been through - everything the country has been through.

An old, deeply racist general is subtly threatening to undo all the work he has managed to do with Ishval.  Years of work, repairs, reparations, all supposed to be culminating with them becoming a state of Amestris - able to largely govern themselves but with the benefits of protection and resources of Amestris at large - is all under attack.  It is all covert undermining of course, and he knows who it is and how he is operating but can’t fucking get any proof.

If that were all of his problems, it might not be so bad.  But in addition to having someone so infuriating half a step ahead of him at every turn, he’s also recently discovered that there are a number of Philosopher’s stones that were created and are unaccounted for.  There’s no way to know how many, and they can’t be very powerful ones, but their existence poses a serious problem.

The day had started out complete shit and only went downhill from there.  After the discovery of the missing stone problem, he met with Scar and Miles, secretly, to work with them to get a leg up on his _other_ problem.

But they had been found out and attacked, leaving MIles seriously injured with his overprotective other half having to be talked out of executing their attacker on the spot.

In general, Scar’s rage had been tampered.  But apparently, Miles is special.

With a headache going on three days old, a couple of fresh wounds, and a serious blow to his ego, Roy storms around his home.  A few things break. He takes a shower that does absolutely nothing for him.

Soaking wet, he flops down naked on his bed.

Roy really, really wants to talk to Ed.  Maybe talk through a little release of tension.

“Heywoo.”  Ed picks up after only one ring, voice full of sleep and exhaustion.

It is the best fucking thing Roy has heard in days.  All of his tension vanishes and for the first time that day, he smiles.  “Hey, Ed. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Mm Mm.”  He hums his no and yawns.  “I’m just really really tired.”  

“You should sleep then.”

“No.  No, you’re more important.  Plus,” Slowly, Ed begins to sound more alert.  “We haven’t spoken in days so I know something is up.”

“Edward,”  Roy’s heart absolutely sings.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”  

“I really wish I could.”  They’ve had a few more arguments about what Roy can and can’t say over the phone since the first.  Luckily, Ed eventually understood and Roy got better about at least letting him know how things were affecting him, even if he couldn’t go into details.  “I just - I don't see how to get out of a mess someone has put me in.” He admits eventually.

“Punch them in the face.”  Ed says with zero hesitation, voice still groggy.

At first, Roy blinks in shock, then that twists into a loud shout of laughter, open and free.

He loves this man.

“Were it that easy I would beg you to come do it for me.”

Fuck.

“You could light their feet on fire under a conference table.”

He really, truly, loves Ed.

“I think he would know it was me.”

And that is the best damn revelation he has had in years.

“Damn.”  Ed’s smile is evident in his every word and Roy aches to see it.  “Sorry. I’m all out of ideas.” His chest trembles with how much he needs him.

“Well, I appreciate the effort.”  Roy assures him.

“Always happy to help.”

“And that’s why I-”  Roy clamps his hand over his mouth.

“Why what?”  Ed asks, some of his exhaustion creeping back in.

“Nothing.  Just, thank you.  You really are the best.”

“Damn right I am!”  He exclaims through a yawn, obviously halfway to sleep already as any other day he wouldn’t let Roy get away with what he just did.

“You should get some sleep,”  Roy tells him. “You’re fighting it pretty hard.”

“Call me tomorrow night, kay? Promise.”

“With everything I have.”

For a long time after he puts the receiver back in its cradle, Roy stares at the phone that has been his lifeline for so long now.  He should be freaking out. Isn’t this a big revelation? Something should feel off? Crazy? Spinning?

But instead of the turmoil of indecision or fear from his revelation, Roy smiles.

He loves Ed.

And his world feels right way up and more solid than ever.

* * *

  


 

> **4th of June, 1919**

Zaragoza’s alchemy is, Ed finds out, primitive.  

Not that the people are, of course, far from it actually.  But the reason everything seems so strange to him is because they got stuck in the wrong direction a few hundred years back and haven’t had anyone to fix it yet.

He’s not exactly looking to fix it FOR them but he has found a few people who seem to be figuring it out.

One, in particular, who was eager to share his work with a traveling scholar.  And who was lucky Ed could no longer perform alchemy or his entire lab would have been reduced to rubble once Ed saw what he was working on.

“This is Mustang.”  It is a little early, but he really wants to talk to him.

“How do I keep managing to step in shit everywhere I go?”

“Are we talking literally or figuratively?”  Roy asks with a hint of a laugh.

“Yes.”  Ed bites out.

“You’re just special.”

“More like cursed.”  He sits heavily on the edge of his bed, pulling the tie from his hair with a huff.

“How deep are we talking here?  Like a smear on your boot or knee deep?”

“I may be choking in it.”  Ed admits.

Roy whistles, impressed.  “Maybe you are cursed.”

Though he is fully aware that the man he met is heavily guarded by the country’s government, Ed hasn’t been around long enough to raise any red flags.  His phone line should be safe-ish.

He hopes.

“Roy.  You remember me telling you about my fa- Hohenheim?”

The playfulness from Roy vanishes.  “What about him?”

“About how he - how he donated blood once?”

Heaviness fills the short silence in the wake of his words.

“Fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“How close?”

“Pretty far away from what I can remember of his warnings in his notes.  Hell, it would take Al and I working together around the clock for at least a year to get there from where these guys are so we have time.”  Ed tries to assure himself as much as Roy. They haven’t created a life yet, but from everything he’d seen so far they are absolutely heading down the right path for it.

“I’m assuming he is protected or you would be speaking in the past tense right now.”

He thinks back to all the guards - their military that roamed the halls of the ‘lab’ looking like they were itching for a fight.  “Heavily.” He admits with a groan.

Roy takes a deep breath.  “Please be careful, Ed.”

“I know what I’m doing.”  He assures him.

“I know you do.  That’s not - we both know first hand how dangerous people in power can get around this sort of thing.  And I’m not - “ he raises his voice just a touch when Ed tries to interrupt him. “I’m not telling you to stay out of it.  I’m just asking you to be careful because I love you and I would like to actually get the chance to kiss you one day and show you just how much.”

Everything kind of stops and every argument Ed had dies, all but disappearing into distant fuzzy memories.  Can he breathe? Yes. That’s good. Everything is - good, actually.

Exceptionally good.

“Ed?  Edward, please say something.  Anything.”

“You love me?”  He asks tone flat, seeking nothing but the truth.

Roy doesn’t take a breath, doesn’t wait, doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

“Okay that’s,” and then Ed is grinning, a big, stupid grin that makes his cheeks hurt.  “Good.”

“Well, at least you’re smiling about it.”  The relief in Roy’s voice is palpable.

But Ed’s mind is racing even as his excitement kind of overwhelms him.  There’s so much that comes with that just tiny little massive bit of information.  It’s a simple enough concept but the enormity of it stuns him. Suddenly he is in the wrong place, too far away and he doesn’t know what to do next. He’ll shift the topic, somehow.  Yes. Good. That will not stop the goofy smile or the all-encompassing warmth that has taken hold in his chest.  But he doesn’t want it to. He never wants it to fade.

He just doesn’t know what to DO with it.

When they’re done, when they both need sleep so much they can’t fight it any longer, he’ll sleep on it.

Tomorrow, Ed will know what to do.   

(Ed already knows _exactly_ what he needs to do.)

* * *

  
  


 

> **5th of June, 1919**

Whenever Roy calls Ed he has to go through at least three operators and a hotel switchboard to be connected.  He has gotten so used to it at this point he never gives it a second thought.

Until he gets stopped at the next to last step.

“I’m sorry sir, the guest in that room checked out yesterday.”

Roy frowns.  Ever since they started speaking again when Ed was in Creta he never actually checked out of a hotel without letting Roy know where he was headed.  Disappeared for a few days sure, but never purposely moved on.

“But it looks like we’re saving a message for him.  Do you happen to be a Mr. Mustang?”

“Yes.”

“It says here: N _ot running away like last time.  Needed to move. Will call as soon as I get where I need to be.  Promise_.”

“Is that all?”

“Afraid so.”  She tells him, sounding apologetic.

He thanks her before hanging up and frowns into the darkness of his room.

Ed is gone again who knows where, or if he is in trouble.

And Roy is just standing in his home thousands of miles away.

Useless.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER! It will be posted tomorrow night!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always held that if you can't laugh during sex you're doin' it wrong.

 

_ Right in front of me _

* * *

 

> **1st of July, 1919**

Worry for the man he loves is only tempered by Roy’s confidence that even without alchemy, Ed is more than capable of taking care of himself.  Each day he dives into his work head first, hyper-focused partially in an effort to avoid the pain that worsens every night his phone doesn’t ring.  By the end of the third week, Riza knows something is up. Covertly, as is her way, she tries to get something - anything - out of him. But he can not share this pain with anyone.  He must bear it alone and let the world keep moving as if nothing has changed.

_ Not running like last time _

It is the only thing that keeps the guilt at bay.  He hadn’t caused this, that much he knows.

But then what had?

And what kind of trouble is he in?

Roy is trying very hard not to stare at his phone all night.  Instead, he sits at the edge of his bed in clean linen pants and a soft, loose tank, poking at the chess pieces on his board to recreate their most recent match.  His only light is the full moon streaking through the large, paneled windows of his bedroom, the only sound that of marble gently being set down on wood. When he eventually passes out waiting, he doesn’t want anything to distract him from sleep.

For now, he is focused on figuring out how he could have turned the tide and won their last game.

A shrill sound breaks the stillness.

He blinks at the phone in disbelief until it rings for a second time.

“This is Mustang.”  Cautious, hopeful.

“Hey, hot stuff!”  Ed responds cheerfully like they had spoken only yesterday.

“Fucking hell.”  Roy finds himself collapsing back against the bed, overcome with relief.  “Ed. Where have you been?” 

“I needed to do something and it took me a while to figure out the best way to do it.”  Ed sounds more excited than apologetic and Roy figures he should settle in for an epic tale.

Except, the guard comm on his bedside table buzzes.

Instantly Roy is on his feet looking out of his window down to the gate where standing outside the guard station under the security light is a tall figure with long, golden hair, phone stretched from within the booth in one hand and waving maniacally with the other.

“Oh.  And the trains were slow as fuck.”

Roy’s heart leaps to his throat and he has to work hard to catch his breath.  Nearly breaking the call button with the force he mashes it down with Roy’s voice cracks.  “Let him in.”

His steps down the stairs to his front door are a blur, pulse racing in his ears.

When he throws his door open Roy freezes, seeing Ed standing there, real, taller than ever, with broad shoulders and more angles on his face than he’d expected.

Beautiful.

And looking just as awestruck and unsure as Roy suddenly feels.

“Hey.”  Is all Ed manages before taking a step inside to let the door close quietly behind him.  They both move, cautiously, towards one another, Roy reaching out a hand to gently cup Ed’s face and Ed’s eyes flutter closed as he leans heavily into the touch like he’s starved for it.

Their steps bring them close enough to taste each other’s breath.  Roy finds a hand clenched in his shirt and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t expected.

“Why?”  He manages to get out.   _ Why did you come why didn’t you say anything? _

Ed’s golden eyes soften and a smile takes over his lips.

“I couldn’t tell you how much I love you over the phone.”

The clatter of Ed’s burgundy suitcase hitting the floor is the only sound in the room as they come together in a fierce and long-awaited kiss.

It is sloppy and awkward and absolutely perfect, Ed picking up on Roy’s ques until they are angled together perfectly, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, lips sliding against lips, tongue tasting each other and savoring every moment as if they’ll never have another chance, like they’ve waited a lifetime for it.

Breathless, chests rising and falling in rapid succession together Roy leaves Ed’s lips only to trail a line of hungry kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, inhaling the strong scent of his soap, whispering quietly against the tender skin just below his ear.

“Well, I am damn glad I did.”

A full body shiver runs through Ed that Roy can feel with how entwined they are and he smirks, switching from hungry kisses to light drags of teeth.  With every shocked gasp and moan, Ed’s hands get bolder in their own roaming of Roy’s body. Warm fingers find Roy’s skin beneath his shirt, reaching up until he clings to him, blunt nails digging in when Roy puts a firm hand at the small of Ed’s back and presses him in closer.  

Slowly, and barely managing to not trip over each other on the way, Roy manages to guide them into the living room, shucking Ed’s jacket and both their shirts.  He has every intention of pressing the younger man into the couch and taking him apart piece by delicious piece.

But Ed has ideas of his own.

With his automail, he manages to hook Roy’s leg and knock him back so that he lands with a huff and a surprised laugh on the couch, followed by a lap full of his eager, overheated lover.

When Ed kisses him again it is softer, no less passionate, but with less urgency behind it and Roy’s body reacts even stronger than before, fire pooling in his gut, screaming out for more, for everything.

“Hm…”  Ed hums into their kiss.

“Everything okay” Roy barely manages, not wanting to pull back from him even long enough to speak.

He chases after Ed when he sits back.  Ed has a languid smile on his kiss-swollen lips.  “This is - different from what I expected.” At least he sounds far from disappointed.

When Roy just raises an eyebrow Ed shakes his head. “Better.”

It’s Roy’s turn to hum.  Slowly, he traces curved lines of muscle up Ed’s body and along his shoulders and neck till he gets his fingers in long, silken hair, loosing it from its tie so he can drag blunt nails easily along the curve of his skull, causing Ed’s eyes to flutter closed.  Then, Roy plants his feet and raises his hips to meet Ed’s, hard.

“Fuck, Roy!”

“And I haven’t even  _ started  _ with you yet.”  He repeats the motion, eliciting more curses from Ed and a tightening need for more from his own body.  When Ed falls against him in another clumsy kiss Roy drinks it in, head swimming with lust.

“Up.”  He manages without really stopping their kiss.

Though he has to repeat himself, eventually, Ed listens and a minute later the younger man is sitting on the couch instead, his eyes alight with want, watching Roy sink to his knees in front of him. Roy lets his breath fall heavy over Ed’s length when he lifts his hips to remove pants, delighting in the visible shiver it sends through Ed’s body.

With  Ed naked and displayed out in front of him Roy takes a breath to enjoy the view before planting teasing kisses to the inside of his flesh knee, dragging his lips slowly up the side of his inner thigh.  All around him Ed squirms in the best way, small gasps of shock filling the silence every moment Roy finds new ways to tease him. By the time Roy takes him in his mouth he’s scrabbling for purchase, knuckles going white once they find a grip in the fabric of the couch.  

“Ed?”  Roy purposely slows down at the pinched look on Ed’s face and the tightness he can feel in his body.

“I, it’s too much.  I’m too close.”

He takes one of Ed’s hands in his and peppers warm knuckles in reassuring kisses.  “It’s fine, Ed. Let go. It doesn’t mean we have to be finished.” 

Though he looks skeptical, he squeezes Roy’s hand and gives a curt nod.

Roy needs no further prompting.

The bitter taste is bright on his tongue when he wraps it around Ed, delighting in the immediate response both from his body and his lips, a string of explicatives to go right along with the arch of his back and how he presses up into Roy’s mouth on his own.  Roy only manages to take him to the base twice before Ed falls silent with one final gasp and the muscles in his leg clench onto Roy’s shoulder as he spills in his mouth.

He takes everything, dragging Ed’s pleasure out as long as he can, swallowing him down until he finds a tug on his hair.  The tug becomes a pull and a demand, Roy moving forward to acquiesce until Ed is kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry for it.  It is Roy’s turn to shake at the way Ed takes and takes, humming at the taste of himself still on Roy’s lips.

“Your turn.”  He gasps between them, voice ragged.

“No.”  Despite what he says, Roy rocks his aching length, still trapped in his own pants, against Ed’s body.  “No equivalent exchange here.”

Ed blinks, then laughs.  “What?”

“I”m going to get you going again THEN we can worry about me.” 

Ed gets a devilish look in his eyes.  “How?”  He asks with a waggle of eyebrows.

“However you want.”  Roy gasps, shocks of pleasure sparking through his already overheated flesh when Ed presses a firm hand against him, curling his palm just enough to cause friction.

“Fuck me, Roy.”  He demands in a tone that brokers no room for argument.

Not that Roy ever would.

“Upstairs.”

Somehow they navigate the steps to Roy’s bedroom together while never really willingly taking their hands off one another.  

Ed is a vision stretched out on Roy’s bed, bathed in the pale moonlight.  Roy takes his time to really see him as he removes the rest of his own clothes, the hard lines of his muscles seem softer here, even as they flex beneath tanned skin and he purposely stretches his body under Roy’s gaze.  

Though he is a patient, and calculating man under all other circumstances Roy has to force himself not to just dive right in and begin to ravish him.  Ed is here, real and solid in his bed and in his arms. He can take all the time he needs. And he does, taking him apart kiss by purposeful kiss, dragging moans and curses from him with his lips and his hands.  He finds the skin of his leg where his automail begins is highly sensitive, but it makes Ed uneasy so he files it away for later. The flesh beneath his right knee is ticklish, so he keeps his attention there until he is threatened with broken bones from automail kicks.  Ed’s hips seem to move of their own volition, rocking up as if begging for more of Roy’s mouth when he peppers his skin in kisses and gentle nips of teeth. He has a scar on his side, hauntingly familiar in size and location to Roy’s own though less scarred from fire. Though he lingers there a moment, he doesn’t say anything.

There are still things neither has talked about even after all these years.

Right now, though, there is just the two of them, their bodies moving together, hands finding new and exciting places to roam and entice and to please.  Fire rages between them, every touch intensified by how much they have both waited and wanted. They kiss and bite and mark one another, finding their way in the darkness of Roy’s bedroom.

He fumbles in his nightstand, never leaves Ed’s lips to bother trying to actually see anything - not that he could right now anyway as his glasses have long since been lost who knows where - and a moment later is teasing at Ed’s entrance with oil slick hands.  But he is wound too tight, too far gone and on edge again that all he can do is tease.

“I need you to relax.”

“I need you to fuck me.” Ed grits out between clenched teeth.

“I am  _ trying. _ ”  Roy reminds him.  “But if you don’t relax it will hurt and I won’t hurt you.”

Roy pulls back from their kiss to try and think of a way to help him, something to say, something to do that he hasn’t tried yet.  He had hoped their time downstairs would have helped but it obviously hadn’t. He could get them both off like this, slick his hand up the rest of the way and wrap it around them both.  But when he glances down to where they are still rocking slowly together he notices something that makes him drop his head against Ed’s shoulder with an evil smirk.

He drags his teeth along Ed’s collar, then up the long lines of his pulse to focus on the sensitive flesh below Ed’s ear.

“You know, I think at this point you’re never going to be taller than me.”

“Wh- are you making short jokes right now?”  Ed demands even as he whines at the attention of Roy’s mouth.  

“Mhm, but that’s okay.”  He mouths at Ed’s ear and speaks low.  “Because your cock is bigger than mine.”

For a long, drawn-out moment Ed freezes.  Then his laughter cuts through the silence, full and bright and abandoned, his mirth shaking every inch of him.

And it is exactly what Roy had been hoping for.

He slips a finger inside and watches triumphant - and a little cocky - as Ed’s laughter and amusement morph into a high pitched gasp of unadulterated pleasure.

“There we go,” he teases, carefully watching Ed’s reaction for any hint of discomfort.  When none comes he begins to move, purposeful with every push and bend of his fingers delighting at the way he squirms when he adds the second.  When Ed begins to push back, to fuck himself on Roy’s fingers his face becomes slack and more open than ever.

“Fuck, this is amazing.”  He gasps, catching Roys’ lips in a deep kiss, only breaking away when Roy crooks his fingers and picks up his pace.  

“Do you want to come like this?”  He offers with a smirk, well aware of what his answer will be.

“No, ah, no fuck.  But I can - I” As his ability to speak falls apart he clings to Roy, fingers digging into his back hard enough there will be a constellation of marks.

One day, Roy will drag this moment out, will bring Ed to the edge and back again over and over until he drives him crazy.  But today, he needs him too much, needs to feel his warmth and the way he moves around him. 

The displeased noises Ed makes at the loss of his fingers are captured by Roy’s lips and replaced with an excited and needy sound when Roy slowly lines himself up and presses in.  The heat of Ed’s body, the way he never quite stops moving and the delicious sounds he makes are almost too much. He is wound up so tight, wanted this for far too long. No dreams or fantasies or long nights spent sharing pretty words could have prepared him for how perfect this feels, not just that he has him here, all of him, in and around him, but that it’s Ed.  Ed, the man he has fallen for so unexpectedly, so thoroughly, and so unconditionally.

“I love you, Ed.”  He kisses him again, slowly beginning to rock his hips.

Ed hums into it and crosses his arms behind Roy’s neck, holding him close.  “You’re a sap, but I love you too.” His voice is soft, a caress of a whisper.

WIth a smirk Roy carefully curls an arm under Ed’s right leg to hold it up, never really changing the speed he rocks them together with, but delighting at the way his lover reacts to the new angle.

“Oh, Fuck!”  Ed shouts when he throws his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. Taking this as an open invitation, Roy begins to move in earnest, picking up his pace and deepening his thrusts until neither of them can speak, lost and abandoned in a haze of sensations.  There are attempts at kisses abandoned as fast as they begin to their inability to focus on anything else except the steady rise of pleasure, how their bodies tighten and spark with anticipation. When Ed comes he is beautiful, in the way his voice breaks with pleasure, how his body arcs and trembles through it, and how desperately he holds onto Roy who follows him head first over the edge within seconds.  

A sense of peace and contentment swallows them both when they lie still together, catching their breath.  Roy never wants to leave, never wants to move from this moment right now, full and whole with Ed in his arms.  

The fog of his pleasure is shaken by a tremble in Ed’s chest that becomes a muffled giggle and then a full-on laugh.  He barely has the energy to look up, choosing instead to nip at his lover’s collarbone and neck before asking, “What, pray tell, is so funny.”

“I can’t believe you brought up dick size in the middle of having sex.  Who does that?” Ed asks, incredulous.

“A strategist,”  Roy says flatly, though he can’t hide his smile.  “And it worked, like my strategies  _ always  _ work.” He reminds him.

That just seems to spur on Ed’s amusement even more and he laughs harder, the sound filling the room.

Roy doesn’t even bother to try and shut him up, instead nuzzling in against his neck and savoring every single second of it.

* * *

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


> **2nd of July, 1919**

The deep grip of sleep clings to Ed who is warm and content and perfectly fucking happy to stay right where he is. Even as the bright light of morning starts to filter through his eyelids he settles further in.  There is a warm body in his arms, a hand carding lazily through his messy hair and a fullness in his chest he can only describe as peace and contentment.

He has waited too long for this, for Roy.  Ached for him in ways he never thought possible and now he is here and he can hardly believe it.  When Roy shifts Ed finds himself laying on his chest, able to hear his heartbeat loud and crystal fucking clear.  It makes his own sing as he tries to commit the sound - the tempo and the song of it - to memory.

The steady rhythm is joined by vibrations and the deep timbre of Roy’s voice.  He’s talking to someone on the phone and there is a sharpness to it that means the call is obviously work.  Ed tries not to listen, to allow himself to slip back into the warmth of sleep for as long as he can steal Roy from the world.

But when Roy hangs up, Ed pops his head up and smiles.  “Two days, huh?”

He gets a wide grin and an almost apologetic kiss in return.  “It is all I can manage on short notice before people start asking questions.”  He explains. He had shifted up to make his call but settles back in now, curling into Ed’s embrace like he has no plans of being anywhere else but that bed for quite some time.

“It’s alright.  I’ll need to get back to Zaragoza pretty quickly anyway.”  He grumbles, trying not to dwell on the mess he had found there.

“You know, you can’t solve all the world’s problems.”  Roy reminds him.

“I can solve this one.”  Ed’s response is firm, but not harsh, and Roy laughs, shaking his head.

“You’re right.  I’m - I'm sorry.”  As if to ask forgiveness he moves to kiss Ed again which he accepts greedily.

As the day begins without them they lay together, lazy kisses becoming exploring hands and heated touches.  With every movement all Ed can do is want more - want everything. Slowly, their needs grow between them and Ed moves, at Roy’s silent encouragement, to straddle him.

Once he does he pauses, looking down at Roy, at the way he stares at him, the way he touches him - how they’ve never really let go since he walked through that door.  There are marks blossoming on chests and shoulders, most will fade quickly, but some will last longer than Ed will be there.

“I love you,”  Ed says easily as if it is the most natural thing to say in the world.  He places a hand over Roy’s heart and leans in close. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to leave again.”  But he has to. He has too much to do, too much to see. 

By the look in Roy’s eyes, he understands no matter how much he doesn’t like it.  “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to let you.” He admits, smile faltering ever so slightly.

“This is going to get more difficult now, isn’t it?  Now that it’s real?”

Roy cups his face and Ed leans into it, marveling at just how tender his rough and calloused hands can be.  “It was real before, Ed. I can tell you it won’t get any easier, though. My desire to have you right here in my arms will burn much hotter now that I know what it feels like.  But I can’t and won’t try to stop you from going wherever you feel you need to. Central is my home and it, and I will always be here waiting for you.

“A place to come home to?”  He asks carefully, chest tight with a mix of longing and hope.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she wrote for this installment. (Literally)  
> A one-shot part two will be posted sometime this week where they get a moment together during Ed's travels.   
> The third installment is about, maybe, a quarter of the way written? Thank you all for coming with me thus far and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
